


Baked Blooms

by virberos



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Assault, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Canon-Typical Violence, Demons, F/M, Magic, Opposites Attract, Slow Burn, Whump, Witch AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:40:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 30,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25306126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virberos/pseuds/virberos
Summary: Vitale ‘V’ Farina and Cassandra Sagefire normally have no reason to interact. They’re busy business-owners, Vitale with his cake-decorating business, Cassandra with her teashop, and fierce rivals in witchcraft atop that. They totally aren’t passing by glances at each other, they don’t have any chemistry, thank you very much, and they are too different to even think about falling in love, like oil and water.But, as they say, opposites attract.
Relationships: V/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	1. Daffodil

It was pre-dawn, 5:30am, and Vitale Farina was awake. 

The small apartment that was his home away from home, that being the shop of his father and uncle and older (by only a few minutes) brother: Devil May Cry. As fond as he was of them, he loved the quiet of his own apartment, above the cake-decorating business he had. He had worked hard, with help from his father (who was the first to ardently support his son’s aspiration to decorate and make cakes), and now he was a working man with a far steadier job than his uncle’s odd job business from the seedier part of Red Grave City.

His bakery, The Land of Dreams Bakery, was his pride and joy. And on the main boulevard as well? What more could he want in life? 

“Blehhh…” Griffon whined, the sound distant. Vitale knew that Griffon hated rising early, usually staying in the mess that was his bed. Shadow sat up from their place on the couch and let out a giant yawn. “I hate that you like waking up at the crack of dawn…your bakery opens at nine! Why are you up this early!?” Griffon grumbled, his voice coming closer as he hopped off the bed and towards the kitchen. Vitale rolled his eyes. Of course Griffon would complain from the other room.

“I’m expecting Nero at 8:30.” Vitale explained patiently as he made french toast for breakfast, the young man in pants and a v-neck long-sleeve shirt. As it cooked, Vitale hummed softly as he went for the clover honey. 

“You know what they say V?” He said, jumping up to the bird stand that was next to the kitchen. "Early to rise and early to bed makes a man healthy but socially dead! And you look socially dead!"

“Thank you for being so concerned about my social life.” Vitale rolled his eyes again. 

“I bet that chick next door has a better- hurawk!” Griffon squawked in surprise as he was suddenly called back into Vitale. 

“That’s enough of that.” He said simply, finishing up the french toast. He did not want to spend the rest of the morning with a sour attitude. Shadow padded over to him, letting out a soft meow. He sighed and reached over, scratching behind Shadow’s ear. “I’m sorry.” 

Shadow only let out a meow and all was forgiven. 

Vitale took his plate of warm french toast and walked to the balcony, sitting down on the tiny table. While he had a table inside, it was lonely to eat there without the company of his rambunctious uncle getting a rise out of his stoic father and (mostly) level-headed brother. No, he preferred it here, on his tiny balcony with just him and the skyline of Red Grave City beyond, tinted pink from the rising sun. He glances down to the street below, empty for now, but he knows it won’t be long before it will bloom to life with the hustle and bustle of the major city that it is. Already, in the distance, he can hear the horns of the ships in the river, moving along to bring goods to and from the ports of the world. 

It’s peaceful in the early light of a new day. 

Eventually, he finished his breakfast and stood to put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher to let them wash. As much as he liked watching the sun rise, he had work to do. After putting on boots (his father always insisted on boots, he preferred sandals himself, but deferred to him. He knew his father had a strong tendency to worry), he made his way downstairs to the cake-decorating business he opened and unlocked the back door. 

“Hello Vitale!” Vitale glanced up, meeting his ever cheerful accountant Stefan. He smiled as the older gentleman entered. “You doing well?”

“I am.” The young man nodded. “Merely another day doing what I love.” 

“And another day that I balance books.” Stefan swung into the small office that he made his home. Vitale smiled and walked to the kitchen, his realm, and pulled out some realistic fondant pizza toppings. He smirked, noting how well they turned out. It was perfect for Nero and his’ plan: a ‘pizza’, actually made of cake, to prank their gullible uncle. It was originally Nero’s idea, coming from the fact that their uncle pretty much ate nothing but pizza and sundaes. It was a miracle he didn’t have a heart attack, a miracle from the demonic blood in their veins. 

Ah, that demonic blood. The thought usually sent him down more somber thoughts, the kind of thoughts he didn’t need while baking. As a Son of Sparda, he was born quite frail and his father, upon finding him and Nero, feared the worst for him. Vitale wondered if, without the blood of his demonic grandfather, he would’ve been viable at all. Regardless, his mother was lost to him and Nero, with only her name spoken with sad fondness from Vergil: Luna Farina. 

Vitale had taken his mother’s name to access the small fortune left to her sons, his equal share. That was what got him through culinary school, along with hard work and a little emotional help from the familiars he had bound himself with: Griffon, Shadow, and Nightmare. He still remembered when his uncle, always speaking before thinking, wondered what was so special about making and decorating cakes before Vergil promptly summoned a spectral sword to stab his brother, followed by a very clipped retort of ‘it doesn’t matter why he’s doing it, it is his choice to follow that path and we should support him’.

Vitale took a step back and took a deep breath. He let out a frustrated tsk, his focus lost. After mentally realigning himself, he got back to work finishing the large thin cake that would be the pizza crust. He couldn’t think too long about the past, it would ruin the taste of the cake, and he wanted it  _ right _ . He prided himself on his craft. He slid the pizza crust into the oven before walking to the fridge to get the plastic containers of strawberries he had procured for this endeavor: you needed pizza sauce, after all. 

  
With that, he began to make strawberry jam. 

He paused, hearing distant piano before realizing that it was merely Stefan’s radio. He smiled and continued with making the jam, already his mood was lifting. He hummed along softly as he worked. The oven rang out with a chipper ‘ding!’ as he finished the jam. Stepping back, he took oven mitts and opened the oven, taking the baked part of the cake out. As he expected, it rose, but Nero could easily say it was one of those deep dish pizzas. Letting it cool on the oven top, he glanced up to the clock. 

8:25am.

Vitale didn’t take long to spread the jam on the pizza cake, followed by the fondant cheese and toppings. No sooner than it was done, he put the pizza cake in it’s box and carried it out of his kitchen. He spotted Nero walking up to the door of his bakery, early as usual. He set the box on the counter and walked to the door to unlock it, opening the glass door for his brother.

“V!” His grin was wide. He certainly seemed peppy as he attempted to hug his little brother. Vitale barely dodged the attempt. “You finished it?”

“Just the finishing touches.” Vitale hummed, walking back behind the counter. He pulled out the pad of sticky notes and quickly scribbled something down.

_ With love, V _

“You think he’ll fall for it?”

“I think he’ll fall for it at first and then eat it anyway.” Vitale said, putting the sticky note on the cardboard top. “How’s Father?”

“Trying not to kill him.” Nero shrugged. 

“Sounds about right.” Vitale sighed. “The day that the two aren’t fighting-”

“Is a day where hell will freeze over.” Nero finished before chuckling. “So, I was next door, you didn’t tell me you were next door to a teashop.” Vitale tensed up and shot his brother a glare. “Woah!” Nero stepped back, hands up. “What’d happen to you?” Vitale let out a sigh.

“The owner of that little teashop...Miss Sagefire. She infuriates me.” He said tensely. “She’s quite brash and...confrontational. She swears too much for my taste-”

“Sounds like you’re talking about me.” Vitale rolled his eyes.

“You’re my brother. I’m supposed to tolerate it when you do it.” He pointed out. Nero grinned.

“You’re lucky you’re behind that counter, cause I would’ve given you a noogie for it.” 

“That’s exactly why I’m behind the counter Nero.” Vitale pointed out. 

“Ok, so she’s got a big mouth and likes to fight. What’s the problem?”

“She’s also a witch Nero.” Vitale said. “Nature, from all appearances. And…” He pressed his lips into a thin line. “She’s almost as good as me.” Nero stared at him quietly, processing this information before seeming to get it.

“She’s your rival, is that it?” Nero said with a grin. Vitale nodded. “Well, as long as she’s not summoning demons to cause shit to happen, I think she’s fine.” He paused. “Kinnndaa wish I knew that before I visited her though…” 

“Why that?” Vitale asked. 

“She’s got an apothecary too. Kinda a two-in-one deal. Antidotes, poisons, that sort of thing. It looks like a teashop on the front but if you know the password…” Nero paused for dramatic effect. “You get in.”

“I suppose it’s been aiding Father and Uncle Dante.” Vitale sighed. 

“Definitely Dante. Dad’s too proud to admit he needs a tonic unless he really fucked up.” Nero said with a shrug. “But if it makes you feel any better, I like your cakes. I know they make Dad happy when I come back to the shop with them.” Vitale smiled a little. “Anyways! What’s on the menu today, aside from pranking our uncle?”

“I was planning on making a cake themed after the daffodil. It came to me last night, but I didn’t have the energy to make it.” Vitale said, glancing to what he already had on display. “It’s perfect for the season.” 

“Anybody cause problems?” Nero asked.

“Aside from her...it is nothing Shadow cannot deal with.” Vitale watched as Shadow passed by, walking to their place in the window. “Most people do not try anything with a demonic panther in the shop. The children love them though. I am always amused by their fearlessness.” He said as Shadow curled up and began to doze in the morning sun. 

The tolling of the clock in the shop caused the baker to perk up. Nero looked up, noticing the time was 9am. 

“Jeez, where does the time fly?” Nero asked. “Well, I’m gonna take this back to the shop. Uncle Dante’s gonna love it when he comes back this afternoon.”    
  


“Take care, Nero.” Vitale said, walking around the counter to flip the sign to ‘open’. In the reflection of the glass, he spotted a familiar mischievous glimmer in Nero’s eyes. Before he could react, Nero pounced on him, promptly giving him that noogie.

“Gotcha!” Nero laughed.

“I would appreciate it if you curbed that habit of yours.” Vitale grumbled audibly before managing to pull away. “You take enough after Uncle Dante as is.” He combed through his hair with his fingers. Nero merely laughed as he went back to the counter to take the cake. 

“Later!” With that, he left the shop. Vitale watched him go with a smile, returning to his place behind the counter. 

The morning, aside from Nero’s arrival, passed by uneventfully. 

As the afternoon rolled by, he received a text from his brother. Picking up his phone during a lull, he smiled at the sight of his uncle being surprised at the pizza that wasn’t actually a pizza before being denied said pizza for an actual pizza. The door open, prompting him to put his phone away before realizing who was walking in.

His rival, the owner of the teashop next door, Cassandra Sagefire. 

She casually strode into the bakery, a cup of tea in hand. In her blonde hair was a daffodil flower, it’s scent wafting after her. She wore a blue lace cover, the undershirt being a sleeveless tank-top for the spring weather. Her boots let out soft clicks as she walked across the pristine floor. 

“What are you doing here?” Vitale asked warily. 

“I’m not here to fuck with you, not this time.” Cassandra said, taking a too-lazy sip of what he presumed was elderflower tea. “Half-moon’s gonna be up in a couple days. You know the rules of the Wake.”

“You’d think I’d forget?” Vitale snapped. The Wake was a special event. Deep in the woods outside the city, the witches and warlocks of Red Grave City would come together to trade secrets and become aware of the covens of the city. Every half-moon, they would unite for the evening and return home by morning light. His father distrusted the covens heavily, a distrust he held himself. As far as he was aware, Cassandra herself was in no coven. 

“Just wanted to remind you.” She said casually. 

“You’re only here to bother me.” He sighed. “Go away.” A low growl came from Shadow’s place. Cassandra held up her hand. 

“Okay okay, yeesh. What the fuck burned in your oven?” She asked, stepping away from the counter. She turned around, leaving his bakery. Shadow shifted and resumed their nap. Vitale leaned against the wall, quickly opening up his book of poetry, a gift from his father, to calm him down. 

Who was she, to just barge in and remind him about the Wake as if he was a child? He knew, he was often in attendance, barring the needs of his family. She knew he came, they often passed by glances before going on opposite ends of the clearing that the covens held their Wake. Why was she so determined to keep an eye on him? What was she, his mother? No, that woman was long dead-

_ ‘V? Uh, V, you’re in one of those moods again.’ _ Griffon spoke in his head. Vitale let out a sigh.

_ ‘I’m sorry. She frustrates me.’ _ Vitale replied. 

_ ‘What, she reminds you too much of what you can’t do?’ _ Griffon asked. Vitale winced at that.  _ ‘No need to be all snappy at her.’ _

_ ‘I am not a child who needs her care.’ _ He huffed at the demonic bird.  _ ‘It is frustrating enough that she’s better than me.’ _

_ ‘Ooooh! You’re just pissy because you got that pride shit from Vergil!’ _ Griffon laughed. Vitale’s frown only deepened at that.  _ ‘Come ooon, you know I’m riiightt!’ _ And it was even worse that he knew Griffon wasn’t wrong. At a very young age, Vergil had instilled in him and Nero the pride of being the grandchildren of Sparda. Nero didn’t take it as seriously as he himself had (at least, as far as he knew). So Cassandra, being better at him in witchcraft? It was a deep blow to his pride, a blow that could not remain unchallenged, a blow that stirred him to do better at his own craft. 

The door opened, he looked up, and immediately noticed it was a customer. Pushing those dark thoughts aside, he closed his book and went right to the counter to help them.


	2. Obsidian

The half-moon hung high above the sky, illuminating the clearing in moonlight, the leaves of the trees swaying from the faint breeze. This was the evening of the Wake, a crisp cool evening that prompted Vitale to bundle up. The young man was wrapped up in a black wool sweater and a matching overcoat, his hands gloved and holding a thermos of warm tea. 

Above him, orange light bulbs were hung from pole to pole, shining with magic. The magic lit the clearing around him. To outsiders, it looked more like a small festival rather than a gathering of witches. But that was by design, to fool outsiders into believing that it was nothing more than a small party happening in the woods. Stranger things happened in the woods aside from small parties. But they would never come close, thanks to the protective wards of the leaders of the most powerful covens of the city: The Riverspeakers Coven, the Felldream Coven, and the Umbraweave Coven.

They were the three primary covens of Red Grave City, often noted as The Grand Covens. Of course, there was also the smattering of smaller covens and solo practitioners such as himself. He personally found no need to join any of the three covens, content with being a solo practitioner. As he walked across the dew-touched grass, he watched witches and warlocks huddle close, as if trying to keep their secrets to only those of their kin or those who performed similar crafts. The aromatic scent of baked bread swirled around, the kitchen witches of the Grand Covens were obviously hard at work providing meals for all present. 

“Brr!” Griffon shivered, the demonic bird resting on his shoulder. Normally, he was the size of a great eagle but, for the moment, he wasn’t much bigger than a parakeet. It was cute, actually. “It’s chilly!”

“Thank you for that astute observation.” Vitale said dryly. Griffon rolled his eyes, glancing around before letting out a warning chip to another witch’s familiar, a small black monkey from the looks of it. Vitale sighed and took a sip to tea, looking to the small booths that advertised the covens or offered protective charms from demons or the supernatural. Covens always wanted new members from solo practitioners, those covenless. He spotted one of them trying to talk to his rival Cassandra, the young woman in a loose sweater, a woolen dress, and a hat on her head. She turned away from them, visibly uninterested, and instead went to one of the booths that was selling trinkets for the Umbraweave Coven. Vitale watched as she conversed with one of the elder members of the coven behind the table before taking a sip of his tea, slowly meandering away from her. 

“Come on, go talk to her!” Griffon whispered, nibbling his ear. Vitale shook his head. 

“No. I don’t think I will do that.” He said. The demonic bird let out a frustrated sigh. “And even then, the Umbraweave Coven would not like my presence. They do not allow men in their ranks, after all.” 

“Oh, you think she’s bitten the bullet and is joining a coven?” 

“Whatever she does is none of my business.” Vitale replied dryly. “And I would not join the Felldream Coven to get back at her just because they do not allow women in their ranks. So short-sighted, for both of them.” 

“Look, I agree with out about the whole ‘restrict people who join based on what’s in their pants’ is kinda stupid but you’re changing the topic on me!” Griffon squawked. “You have a stick so far up your ass I’m surprised you haven’t choked on it yet!” Vitale looked to him with a frown. “What? It’s true. I know you’re still pissy because she’s better than you and you can’t handle it, weenie.” 

“How utterly childish you are. You’re almost like my uncle, just moments away from being stabbed by my father.” He said, taking care not to speak his name. His father’s distrust was well known to the other covens, although the whys of the matter were not known to him. At best, it was probably the demon summoning. Vergil hated cleaning up after other people’s messes and sometimes the smaller covens, with more ego than brain, would summon a demon they could not control. Then him and Dante would be begged to help take care of the problem. 

“I’m not wrong though.” Griffon chirped. 

“I am...working through that.” He grumbled. “I want to become better, that is true. It is more a matter that _someone_ is better than me, not because Cassandra is a woman.”

“Jeez, you’re almost as bad as your old man.” Griffon rolled his eyes. “No wait, your old man is better after he got a bazooka to the face.” Vitale let out a groan.

“Excuse me!” A female voice, high and startlingly clear, made Vitale turn. Behind him was a woman with blond hair with bands that were tucked back, a woman that looked strikingly out of place in this gathering of witches and warlocks. In fact, she only looked like she even slightly belonged at the Wake was her black attire, a long black dress that started just below her shoulder and went all the way down past her knee, but even that was stretching it. Around her neck was a necklace, a white butterfly held by a silver chain. Vitale was immediately reminded of certain customers of his, rude and demanding of him and barely offering a ‘thank you’ in response to his hard work. She held out her hand, to which he warily took. She promptly shook it hard, causing Vitale to wince.

“And...you are?”

“My name is Catria Whitewing. I run the Whitewing Coven.” She said with a chipperness that was a stark contrast to the dark misty world around them, illuminated only by orange-tinted lightbulbs powered by magic. Vitale raised an eyebrow. It certainly had to be one of the smaller covens. “We’re seeking warlocks and witches who want to unlock the secrets of demonkind-”

“I have no want to join a coven.” He cut her off quickly. He heard this speech before, from a dozen different witches and warlocks advertising their own covens and this Catria Whitewing was no different. She narrowed her eyes at him. 

“But surely, we can offer what you lack-”

“Such as?” Vitale asked curtly, a dare for her to reveal her hand. She perked up, any dislike of him fading quickly under the assumption that she had him hooked, she just needed him to sink. 

“Well, I’m glad you asked! For starters, we offer protection against the larger covens and their constant weedling to get solo practitioners to join their covens.” That wasn’t a lie. The three Grand Covens were guilty of trying to insist that new practitioners joined their covens. Vitale stood his ground, and he was certain others had, just as much as others fell for them and joined. “We also have the means to protect our summoners as we summon demons into the mortal realm to study them.”

“Study them for what?” 

“Weaknesses, obviously.” She rolled her eyes. Vitale immediately didn’t like that. “And how they tick. Demonic parts also sell highly with the right people.” That was a well known fact amongst the witches and warlocks of Red Grave City. Demonic parts did sell well but gaining those parts was dangerous. That was why some witches either didn’t bother or just used differing means to make ends meet, like himself and his baking. He weaved magic into every action he did, to enhance the tastes and textures of his cakes and pies. 

Gathering demon bits to sell on the black market was too much of a mess for him. 

“It sounds like a mess. I’m not interested.” He said, taking a lazy drink of his cooled tea. Catria scowled at him before letting out a sigh.

“Alll right…” She pulled out a white business card, a butterfly-wing charm attached to it. What was she, some sort of office worker? She pushed the card into his hands. “But if you ever need me, just call me! The Whitewing Coven is ALWAYS looking for new warlocks and witches to join our ranks. Teehee!” She smiled, too wide, too fake, and that giggle was almost infantilizing, before walking away. Vitale watched her leave, to another solo practitioner if he had to guess, equal parts irritated and bewildered as to what happened to him. He stared down at the card and attached charm forced into his hand, at her leaving form, and then back to the card. 

“She talked to you too?” Came a familiar voice. He turned, seeing Cassandra directly behind him. He winced at her presence.

“Why do you care?” He asked, a little too defensively if he had to admit. She leaned forward, lowering her voice to a whisper.

“Something’s up with her.” She said, green eyes still focused on Catria. “I can tell. She’s got something about her I can’t explain.” 

“A gut feeling?” Griffon asked, tilting his head a little.

“Yeah, something like that.” Cassandra murmured. “Everything about her seems too...manufactured. Like she’s projecting a persona onto every witch and warlock that has the misfortune of being in her line of sight.”

“I sensed that as well.” He looked at the card before pocketing it. “I will burn it later. I have no intention of humoring her or the Whitewing Coven.”

“I plan to do the same, at least in memory. I already burned the card she dared push on to me after I made it clear I had no interest in the covens. This...upstart will be no different.” Cassandra growled. “But Catria…”

“Catria’s weird.” Griffin mumbled. Cassandra nodded in agreement. Taking Vitale’s hand, she pushed something into his hand and squeezed it into a fist. 

“Keep it.” Vitale blinked in confusion before taking back his hand, opening it to find a small black moon charm in his hand, one that would fit on his necklace.

“What is it?” He asked, looking to her for an explanation. 

“Obsidian. It’s a stone that is used for divination and protection, amongst other things. But in this case, I asked for protection against divination.” Vitale looked back at the charm, the orange light above reflecting off it’s lustrous surface. “Considering she’s here, where all the witches and warlocks of Red Grave City are, and my own personal gut feeling about it, she might try to scry as many of us as she can.” 

“An attempt to burn us all down?” Vitale asked. Cassandra bit her lip. It would not be the first time in the history of Red Grave City that fire ripped through the covens.

“I don’t know.” She admitted. “Catria could be anything. She could be a human reporter trying to write some stupid exposé on the covens of Red Grave City or she could be a demon in a very very good disguise. Regardless who she is, I do know that I’m not taking any chances with her.” She held up her hand, showing him the obsidian ring that rested on her middle finger. “And I suggest you don’t either.” 

“...why are you so interested in my safety?” He asked softly. Cassandra shrugged.

“Why shouldn’t I? Solo witches gotta stick together, even if they’re not bound by a coven. We have to look out for each other, since we have no shelter of a coven to watch our backs for us.” She said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“And you do not wish for any gain in return?”

“...no? What made you think that?” Cassandra stared at him, visibly confused. 

“The world runs on give and take. You gave me this charm to protect me...but you must want-” Vitale started, only for Griffon to pull on his hair. “Ow!”

“Say thank you!” Griffon snapped. “Jeez, she does something nice for ya and off you go overthinking it. Not everything requires a fucking dissertation.” Cassandra chuckled at his outburst.

“Your familiar is right, you know.” 

“...thank you. For the charm.” Vitale sighed, taking off his necklace and quickly sliding the charm onto the worn black leather. Cassandra smiled.

“You’re welcome, Vitale.” She said. There was a sudden whizz in the air, the two looking up to see a dark purple flare light the sky, followed by a blue flare and a green flare. “Ah, the Wake is ending. That’s our cue to make our way home.” Vitale nodded in agreement. “Fair winds and following seas.” Cassandra tipped her hat to him before walking away. Vitale watched as she disappeared into the crowd making their way home, leaving him behind. 

Vitale let out a soft hum, slowly following the crowd out of the clearing. It seemed that, to Cassandra, this Catria witch was someone to be wary of. This wariness was enough for her to reach out to him (who had been nothing but quietly hostile to her, he could admit that much) to try and protect him as well as herself. He had to admit, he...he did not expect kindness from her, freely given no less. 

“...so you gonna swing by and give her some cupcakes as a thank-you and ‘sorry i was kinda a dick to you?’, V?” Griffon asked. 

“...I think I will.” Vitale murmured as he split away from the crowd. Griffon leapt off his shoulder, growing to his full size and flying up through the trees to the black sky above. Shadow formed by his side, leading him through the trees to where Vitale had parked for the Wake. He felt no fear as the shadows loomed over them, he rarely ever felt fear with his familiars by his side.

But he did feel...something. Eyes on his back, as if something in the darkness was watching him, assessing him for...something. He glanced back, finding only shadow and the fading lights of the Wake, the Grand Covens taking down their booths and preparing for the journey back to Red Grave City. He had no reason to believe the Grand Covens would cast such a spell, the spell to disable the wards was far different than whatever this sensation was.

It was an odd sensation. And he didn’t like that one bit. Someone had been watching him, trying to follow him home. He immediately pulled out the card, his hand thumbing the charm on the card. 

“Father must know about this…” Vitale murmured before increasing his pace out of the woods.


	3. Love-in-a-mist

The morning sun shone upon the slums and back alleyways of Red Grave City. Within the dirt and grime of the less-than-glamorous side of the city was Devil May Cry, a second home to Vitale. It was where he was raised with his uncle, with help from Lady, long before he thought of baking a cake as a career option, and Trish as well (after the whole ‘servant of Mundus’ thing, she had become a sort of wine aunt to him and Nero along with Lady). Devil May Cry was full of memories.

Although, at the present moment, he wished he was anywhere but here, given how Dante and Vergil were arguing over the card currently on Dante’s desk and the events of the Wake. Nero wasn’t here and, knowing him, he was probably with that lovely singer from Fortuna, Kyrie. 

“It’s clearly the catalyst for a scrying spell, Dante.” Vergil argued. “It reeks of demonic energy.”

“Yeah, but we’re dealing with witches and warlocks here!” Dante pointed out. “We can’t just go stab one weird chick with demonic energy and scrying spells. We’d be branded as murderers!” 

“I believe we already have...a reputation.” Vergil sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Well, nobody messes with us.” Dante shrugged.

“Unfortunately. Because that means I’m stuck with your antics when you get bored.” 

“Father, Uncle Dante.” Vitale spoke up. “I have to go, but please keep Catria in mind. I believe she has something planned with her coven, but what, I do not know.” 

“Of course, Vitale.” Vergil’s tone softened as his hand moved to rest on Vitale’s shoulder. “I will tell Morrison to keep an eye out for information about witches and warlocks going missing.” Vitale nodded.

“I’ll do it for some of that delicious strawberry cak- HEY!” Dante ducked, barely missing a summoned sword to the head. It embedded itself in the wood of his chair before fading away. “VERGIL!” 

“You will not bribe my son for free pastries.” Vergil growled as the spectral sword disappeared, leaving only a small groove where it impacted the chair. Dante let out a whine. Vitale let out a sigh as he stood up. 

“Goodbye for now, Father, Uncle Dante.” 

“Bye kiddo!” Dante waved as Vitale left the shop. He got into his car and drove away from Devil May Cry, driving back to his shop. As he drove, his mind wandered to Cassandra. The obsidian charm remained around his neck, next to the fang. It was perplexing how she freely offered aid to him. He thought of how coldly he had treated her in the past and frowned. Ever since his pride was first wounded when they met, when he opened his store and sensed the strong magic next door, he had been nothing but cold to her. To think she had tried to help him, despite his cold shoulder...he felt awful about it. 

_ ‘Oh FINALLY he fucking gets it!’ _ Griffon groaned in his head.  _ ‘Just like I said, you got that pride shit from your old man and now it’s kicking your ass!’ _

_ ‘Thank you for your astute observation.’ _ He mentally grumbled, turning onto the boulevard where his shop was. He parked as close as he could to his shop, which was still a few blocks away but he could deal with walking. Getting out and locking the car, he began to make his way down the street. He paused when he passed by the local flower shop, Flower Showers. He glanced up, a nagging feeling in his gut (that he was sure Griffon was causing. He seemed quite determined to get him and Cassandra together) before stepping inside to indulge his avian familiar. 

“Oh, hello!” The young brunette behind the counter waved at her. “Just tell me if you need anything!” Vitale glanced to the nametag, noting her name as Lottie. How cute. He glanced around, looking at the flowers around him. The vitex flowers, with their pale purple blooms, looked quite lovely. Before he could pick one up, Griffon’s voice rang out in his head.

_ ‘Oh! Those ones, the love-in-a-mist flowers!’ _ Griffon squawked. 

_ ‘Can you not scream in my head?’ _ Vitale retorted. He sensed the familiar cow at his retort before he looked to the young woman, who was approaching him. She had noticed him pausing in front of the blue blooms. He smiled to her, polite enough. “May I have a small bouquet of these?” 

“Oh, of course!” Vitale stepped back as she prepared the flowers into a bouquet. Vitale meandered to the counter. “What ribbon do you want around it?”

“Blue, please. To match the flowers” Vitale said. Lottie nodded and ran off with the flowers to prepare the bouquet. Vitale leaned against the counter, waiting patiently.  _ ‘Why those, Griffon?’ _ He mentally asked the demonic bird.

_ ‘Well, love-in-a-mist sounds pretty witchy to me. And she IS a witch. But they’re blue and it matches my feathers.’ _

_ ‘Ah, so you chose them out of vanity. Why am I not surprised.’ _ Vitale mused. 

_ ‘Excuuuse me, princess!’ _ Griffon squawked.  _ ‘I’m just trying to get you to NOT have a stick up your ass!’ _

_ ‘I don’t need your love advice, considering you have a habit of watching soap operas when you think I’m not aware of it.’ _ Vitale pointed out. Griffon let out a gasp.

_ ‘I do NOT watch soap operas!’ _

_ ‘Liar. You watch them as much as you watch that one chef that yells all the time.’ _ Vitale watched as Lottie returned with the bouquet. Vitale quickly paid for the bouquet before he changed his mind. 

“Is it for someone special?” She asked.

“I...yes.” He nodded. Lottie let out a squeal.

“Oooh, that’s so cute. I hope they love it!” She said as Vitale left the shop. “Bye bye!” 

_ ‘Now you gotta go talk to her.’ _ Griffon teased.  _ ‘Cooome on lover booooy!’ _

_ ‘Please shut up.’  _ Vitale grumbled. Griffon’s laughter echoed in his head as he continued down the sidewalk, passing his bakery and turning to enter his rival’s teashop: Sagefire Teashop.

Vitale found himself in a strange place, a mix of cold urban seating and warm woods for the service counters. Against the right wall was a roaring hearth, atop it a shining silver rapier, the hilt a deep blue and decorated with small stars. Hanging from the ceiling were baskets, with plants growing out from them. The teashop was empty, as it was past lunch hour, and Cassandra was the only one behind the counter. She looked up at him and blinked in surprise, deep green eyes flicking to the bouquet in his slender hands. 

“Vitale? I never would’ve expected you here.” She said as Vitale approached. “Who are the flowers for?”

“You. It was Griffon’s idea.” He said, setting the bouquet down in front of her. She took the bouquet and inhaled the floral scent.

“Hm...love-in-a-mist. Do I puzzle you, Vitale?” 

“I’m sorry?” The baker asked, tilting his head a little. She laughed as she took a vase atop one of the display cases and replaced the wilting flowers with the bouquet. 

“Love-in-a-mist means ‘you puzzle me’ in the language of flowers. I thought you would know that, mister poetry, considering that your bakery is named after a poem of William Blake’s.” She teased. 

“I gained an appreciation for Blake’s poetry from my father.” Vitale said. “He gave me his book of poetry, a book I keep safe in my apartment.” He watched as Cassandra moved to prepare some tea. 

“I see. How about you stay here for a little while?” She asked. “I mean, it’s almost my lunch and I’m not letting you leave without something as thanks for giving me flowers. Even if you missed the meaning of them.”

“...I would be honored.” Vitale said with a faint smile. Cassandra smiled back to him. 

“Any preference for tea? Food? I make more than just tea here. I have sandwiches and parfaits too! Like an artisanal Moondoes! I can even heat them up if you want.” She pointed down to the open display, where there were sandwiches ranging from vegetarian to meat-lovers to everything in between, prepackaged for convenience sake. There were also fruit parfaits, bottled drinks, it really was something one would find at the largest fast-coffee franchise in the city. 

“I prefer my tea to be warm and sweet, peach flavored, if that helps.” Vitale explained, picking up a meat-lovers sandwich with cheese. “I can pay-”

“Oh no, there’s no need. It’s a favor for the flowers.” Cassandra waved her hand as she prepared the tea. “Hot or cold?”

“Hot. Along with this.” He set the packaged sandwich on the counter. Cassandra promptly took it and unwrapped it, sliding it into a mini-oven. She pushed the heat button before rushing off to finish the tea. Vitale noticed the obsidian ring was still on her finger. Before he could ask, she set the hot tea on the counter in a dark brown take-away cup. A few moments later, the mini-oven rang out. She took out the now-hot sandwich with a pair of tongs and slid it into a paper sleeve before setting it on the counter with the tea.

“You can go sit by the hearth. I’ll meet you there.” Vitale was about to ask when Cassandra interrupted him. “I’ll tell you why I have a hearth when I come over, ok?”

“Ah...alright.” Vitale nodded, carefully taking the tea and hot sandwich and walking to the heart, taking a seat next to the table. It seemed to be designed after a living room, except larger and with USB plugs and outlets for phone chargers. Setting his sandwich down to cool off, he took a sip of the tea, quickly noting the sweet peach taste that met his lips. He watched as Cassandra rounded the table with what appeared to be a grilled cheese sandwich and tea in her hand. She plopped down next to him and set her sandwich a little bit away from his.

“Ok, fire away.”

“Why a hearth?” He asked. Better start with the easy question. Cassandra looked to the blazing hearth with a smile.

“Well, it’s an electric fireplace. Can’t get a real one in here without ripping the walls apart but an electric one does the job just fine. The hearth, however, is a callback to home.” She looked to him. “You know of the Earthfaith?”

“Only a little. The Earthfaith is a religion that focuses on worship of the earth and tending to the world’s natural resources.” Vitale said. Cassandra nodded.

“Pretty much. But we don’t call the centers of the Earthfaith churches like the Christians do. We call them hearths, because everyone gathers around the hearth to stay warm. It’s a callback to that thought.” Cassandra explained. “I do miss my home, the largest of the Hearths of the Earthfaith, but it’s for the better that I am here instead of Red Grave City. They didn’t approve of my witchy tendencies, they thought I was gonna go frolicing in the woods without clothes and summon demons.” 

“I...I’m sorry-”

“For what? That I had to leave home?”

“For being without family to support you as you made a new life here. My brother and I were briefly orphaned until our father found us. We were lucky-”

“Wait wait wait wait hold up.” Cassandra looked at him in confusion. “Your brother?”

“Yes, Nero-”

“Nero is your brother!?”

“We’re twins.”

“TWINS!” Cassandra let out a noise, a snort mashed ungracefully with a giggle. “I can’t believe it, you two are twins, you’re nothing alike!” Vitale raised an eyebrow.

“I inherited more of my mother’s looks, according to my father.” 

“I guess so.” She said, calming down. “Sorry, I don’t mean to sound like an ass, it’s just...you two are so different, I couldn’t even fathom you two being twins.” She admitted, taking a drink of tea to calm down. After a few moments, she let out a sigh. “Siblings sound nice though. I was an only child growing up, with an emotionally absent father and a bedbound mother…” She sighed. 

“You had your parents, at least.” Vitale pointed out.

“Yeah, but my father didn’t particularly care for me. My mother did. And then she...passed. Then my father discovered my witchy tendencies and I was chased out of my home.” She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “It was...a trying time.” Vitale nodded. He could only imagine such hardship. He took a slow drink of his tea, thinking over her words. His eyes moved up, resting on the rapier hanging above the hearth.

“Where did the rapier come from?” He asked. Cassandra glanced up and laughed.

“It’s mine. It’s named Astra. The Blade of the Stars if you wanna get all fancy, but it’s a blade that innate to my bloodline. It was the one thing they could never take away from me.” She said. “I keep it up there for decoration, since I don’t really need a demon-slaying rapier when I’m running a tea shop.” 

“Unless you want to chase off would-be thieves?” Cassandra shrugged at Vitale’s inquiry.

“Yeah, I guess. But then again, your big demon panther does a good enough job of chasing off thieves in general. If  _ one _ person has a giant demon panther, what about everyone else?” She pointed out with a grin. 

“I suppose when you say it like that.” He mused, taking a bite out of his sandwich. “Hm, it’s delicious.” She smiled at that.

“Thank you.” She leaned back, letting the silence fill the space between them as they ate. Vitale glanced up to the rapier. Now that he was closer to it, he could feel a faint magic emanating from the blade. It was definitely not demonic, something more along the lines of holy and druidic. He supposed that was why she was banished, witches were commonly depicted as nude summoners of demons and bestowers of curses in the more remote regions of the world. That kind of reputation, combined with the purity of the blade of her bloodline? 

“Did you perhaps inherit this location?” Vitale asked before he could stop himself. If Cassandra took offense, she didn’t vocalize it.

“I did. When I arrived in Red Grave City, I took a job here. The couple that owned this place previously were a sweet old couple, Mathilda and Clive Valentia. I already knew how to brew tea but it was Clive who taught me how to make potions and tonics. A dash of magic and bam! You got yourself a thriving apothecary!” 

“I presume the couple were quite impressed with your work ethic, considering you now own the building.” Vitale said, hiding his impressed expression behind a sip of tea. 

“Oh yeah. I worked hard to get where I am.” Cassandra nodded. “And Earthmother help anyone who tries to take that away from me.” She cracked her fists before devouring the rest of her sandwich. “Ah…” She took her tea, leaned back, and drank deep. Vitale watched her quietly. He had not realized it before but, in this moment, he realized that they were more alike than he expected. Both of them were hardworking, knowledgeable in classic literature, able to protect themselves via magical means, and bore rather interesting familial relationships (Cassandra, estranged with her own kin and yet blessed by her ancestors, and himself without any knowledge of his mother aside from her being a baker but held the knowledge of his heritage as a son of Sparda). 

He sighed into his cup of tea. He had much to think about in the coming days. 

“Vitale?” Cassandra’s voice roused him from his thoughts. 

“My apologies. I was thinking.” He looked to the clock. “I must return to my bakery. I do thank you for inviting me to lunch.”

“I thank you for the flowers.” Cassandra said with a smile. “I knew that you didn’t have an ice cold heart in all that black leather.” Vitale felt a blush burn on his cheeks. 

“I’m sorry?” 

“I noticed you have a fondness for leather. And that is all I’ll say on the matter.” With that, Cassandra stood up and walked away, leaving Vitale sitting there with a brightening blush on his cheeks and Griffon laughing in his head. 


	4. Rose Quartz

Vitale hated how unexpected spring showers fell upon the city. One moment, it was a cloudless sky, the mid-afternoon sun beating down. The next, it was raining cats and dogs, changing his mood to complete and utter misery. Even worse, due to the sudden appearance of these spring showers, he was usually completely unprepared for them. As Vitale raced through the streets of Red Grave City seeking shelter, his light clothes becoming soaked with rainwater, he dipped into a tiny worn shop. The bell above the door rang out against the thunder. Closing the door behind him, Vitale sneezed loudly into his arm. 

“Ugh...I hate the rain.” He muttered, wrapping his arms around him. 

“You look fucking drenched.” A familiar voice spoke up. He looked up, seeing Cassandra in a green trench coat, golden vines dancing along the hem. Her golden hair was covered by a tan cloche hat, a black ribbon wrapped around the hat. Behind her was what appeared to be a very small and very cramped thrift store for witches, which explained the magic he could practically taste in the air. There was enough magic in the building to hide it from human eyes but, if one was a witch or warlock, they could duck inside for whatever reason...like a sudden spring shower on what was a clear sunny day. He looked around beyond Cassandra, to the sigils decorating the ceiling. He recognized them as ones that prevented familiars from materializing, which would definitely irritate Griffon to no end. He glanced at the old woman at the register, adjusting the radio to play some classical violin. 

“I was caught off guard by the sudden storm.” Vitale explained, returning his attention to Cassandra. “I hold no fondness for the rain. It reminds me of the times I was sick at home.”

“You got sick often?” She asked, gently guiding Vitale through the thrift store. 

“Indeed. My father always worried over me when I fell ill. My brother was born healthy and I was not, so my father worried over me more than him.” He explained. He noticed that his clothes were drying off faster than he expected, perhaps an effect of the magic that permeated every inch of the thrift store. 

“I can imagine it would be exhausting for you.” Cassandra began. “But I would kill to have a father who doted on me at all. My mother was bed bound after I was born, so she couldn’t stand up to tend to me whenever I got sick. All I had was a family friend who took care of me but...she passed on when I was seven. So I was tended to by servants.” 

“Servants?” Vitale asked in confusion. “You...had servants?”

“Yeah, I know most people don’t have servants who took care of them, but I did. Didn’t stop me from learning how to cook and all that.” She said. “And the rest is history.” 

“So you were born into wealth, but was banished from it for your affiliations with witchcraft, and made a new life for yourself despite losing everything?” Vitale asked. Cassandra nodded. “You continue to impress me.” 

“Charmer.” Cassandra giggled, hiding her blush in the collar of her coat. 

“I mean it. I have not known wealth, my uncle is careless with money and has one very insistent debtor.” He paused. “Said debtor is one of my aunts, actually. My uncle claims that me and Nero only added onto that debt because she fell in love with us as infants.” 

“Jeez. Sounds, uh, rough.”

“Not really. She spoiled us rotten.” Cassandra let out a surprised ‘oh!’ at that. “She looks rough around the edges but, under that, is a caring heart. She adores us and I am quite fond of her.” Vitale let out a soft sigh. 

“I guess it’s another thing that makes us different. I had wealth but not much in familial love while you did not and yet have that love in spades. I must admit, I’m jealous of you.” Cassandra sighed. Vitale found himself at a loss for words. Her, jealous? He couldn’t fathom it, even as she admitted it aloud. He was the one who was supposed to be jealous of her because she was the better witch! He wasn’t sure what to say at the confession. Instead, he looked around to the shelves full of magical paraphernalia, before his eyes found a butterfly, the size of his hand, made of rose quartz. It’s left wing was visibly burned, perhaps a novice spilled some potion on the butterfly and had to get rid of it. 

“How tragic.” Cassandra commented, noticing where his gaze was. He felt relieved to have the perfect change of conversation. 

“A pity.” Vitale said in agreement, his hand grazing the burnt surface. Something about it felt off, a sort of feeling settling in his stomach that he couldn’t name but dreaded. Perhaps it wasn’t the failings of a novice witch...but something more sinister. 

He pulled back his hand quickly, a gesture that Cassandra noticed. He felt her hand rest between his shoulder blades (a gesture he was surprisingly OK with) as she guided him away from the scorched butterfly. As they walked through the aisles, shelves full of various knives and stones and small cauldrons, something caught his eye: a dagger. Daggers weren’t uncommon for rituals but nothing so elaborate as this: a black handle in the shape of a horse head with a blue bridle around its mouth, decorated gracefully with rose quartz where the handle met the blade. Next to it was a black leather sheath, intricately decorated with gears and clocks in pale blue thread.

“That looks like something you’d have.” Cassandra commented. Vitale carefully picked up the dagger, pale fingers carefully running along the edge of the blade. 

“It’s quite elaborate to be here.” Vitale said. “I can only imagine the family of whoever this belonged to disposed of it as best they could because they were not practitioners themselves. They saw this as a fancy albeit ordinary dagger.” 

“You should get it.” Cassandra suggested. 

_ ‘It reminds me of Geryon.’ _ Griffon commented in his head.  _ ‘Guess whoever owned this really liked those time-jumping hell horses.’ _

_ ‘Thank you for your observation.’ _ Vitale replied dryly, taking the sheath and sliding the dagger inside it. “I think I will take this with me.” He said. 

“I bet you’ll take good care of it...after you cleanse it of any curses that someone might have put on it before it ended up here.” Cassandra hummed. Vitale nodded, keeping the dagger close to him. “I mean, they probably do cleanse it, but you never know with thrift shops.” 

“Of course.” Vitale nodded. He remembered the scorched rose quartz butterfly, the decoration obviously having a sordid tale to tell. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear that tale…

He shook his head to get the decoration out of his mind. It was just a scorched decoration, nothing more, nothing less. 

“Huh, look at this funky cauldron.” Cassandra said. Vitale looked over to it, a warped iron cauldron depicting a disgusting mess of neon colors. It looked more like junk than anything restorable, why it was here, he didn’t know. 

“If my uncle were here, he would make a joke about it.” 

“Dante?” Cassandra asked. Vitale jumped a little, earning a chuckle from her. “Don’t worry, when you mentioned that Nero was your twin, it got me thinking about the other two hunters from Devil May Cry. They visit my apothecary from time to time, Dante a bit more than Vergil, but now that you mentioned your uncle making a joke, I connected the dots together.” 

“...I would like to preemptively apologize for any subpar attempts at flirting.” Vitale said awkwardly, not looking at her. Cassandra laughed.

“He tried once but Mathilda beat his ass so hard he didn’t try again. It was the funniest shit, I’ll tell you that.” Vitale smiled. 

“It sounds like something he would’ve done when he was young and...more idiotic. My uncle is not particularly bright, unless the situation calls for it, but I am still eternally fond of him.” He said, smiling softly at the fond memories that surfaced, of flights of fancy with his uncle’s demonic form and birthday parties that Dante never failed to go all out for (despite earning the ire of his father). 

“Earthmother bless it, it sounds so nice.” She sighed. “Man, I really should stop bringing up my family troubles every time we meet. It’s a downer. Dead mom, negligent dad, runaway from home, nobody wants to hear that.” She looked to Vitale. “Hey, what do you do when you’re not baking?” Vitale noted the quick but awkward change of conversation. She did have a point about bringing up family troubles every time they met. 

“Well, I monitor Griffon’s TV habits. He will vehemently deny it but he either watches late-afternoon soap operas or cooking shows.” He ignored the familiar’s squawking in his head. Cassandra snorted at the thought.

“A little demon bird, watching the soaps. I love it.” Cassandra paused, looking up. “Shit, the weird stuff. Let’s get out of this part of the store.” Vitale followed her gaze and frowned. While he was never one to insult the beliefs of others, the totems before him certainly unnerved him. They were scorched, some moreso than others, but all to the point of unrecognizability. Surprisingly, even Griffon was silent and still at the sight. 

“Actually…” Vitale murmured, taking Cassandra’s hand. “Is it just me, or is the shelf packed with burned idols?” He asked softly. He could faintly sense some sort of aura from the burned idols, but what? Cassandra looked to them and visibly shuddered.

“Yeah, they are. I don’t like it.” The discomfort in her voice was all he needed to let her lead him away towards the front of the store. A simmering uneasiness remained, despite the distance between them and the back of the store. Vitale looked around the register, noting snacks and the jewelry case. He slipped away from her, noticing a pair of rose-quartz earrings, rough cut and held in silver. He looked to Cassandra, noticing that she was busy glancing over the snacks. He noticed the blue studs in her ear and made a decision. He quickly picked up the earrings and walked over to the cashier, an older-looking woman who smiled at him.

“Ah, aren’t you a nice young man?” She asked. “Is that your girlfriend?”

“Oh, no, she is merely an acquaintance.” Vitale corrected. He ignored Griffon’s snickering at the old woman presuming them to be in a relationship.  _ ‘And even then, I doubt Cassandra even feels that way towards me.’ _ He thought.

“Rose quartz...you know that’s the stone of love.” She said. Vitale blushed. 

“I’m afraid love is the farthest thing on my mind.” He said. “She has aided me, so I return the favor, nothing more, nothing less.” The old woman let out a knowing chuckle. 

“Ahh, you young folk always surprise me. Just the other day, this rude woman came in with a bunch of burnt junk! What are supposed to do with it!?” She huffed as she rang up the transaction. “It’s spooky too, I can feel them staring at me. Oogh…” She shuddered. 

_ ‘So that sensation, it wasn’t just Cassandra and I. But that doesn’t explain where they came from...or why they’re here in this condition.’ _ Vitale thought as he paid for them. The old woman put them in a bag and handed the bag to VItale. “Do you believe that the Grand Covens should be notified of this?” He asked.

“Old Henrietta is already on it.” The old woman sighed. “Such rudeness, bringing in those burnt...whatever they were. Oh well, I hope you two have a lovely day.” She looked out the window. “Oh, and the storm’s passed! Oh isn’t it lovely.” 

“I suppose that’s our queue to return back to our homes.” Cassandra said. “Bye bye!” She went to the door. Vitale quickly followed her out the door. 

“Wait!” Cassandra stopped, turning to him. He took out the earrings. “I bought these for you.” She looked at the earrings before smiling. 

“Thank you, Vitale. They’re lovely.” She quickly opened up her bag, placing them in a side pocket for safe-keeping. “I’ll see you...later, perhaps?”

“If the weather permits.” Vitale looked up at the clear sky. “I pray we don’t get any more of those sudden spring storms.” 

“I wouldn’t mind spring storms...as long as I’m inside.” Cassandra commented. “Bye!” With that, she turned and walked away, leaving Vitale standing there under the awning of the thrift store. Griffon burst out from his shoulder, letting out a gasp.

“Phew! Damn, those sigils were tough! I couldn’t manifest at all!”

“Probably to prevent less scrupulous witches from using their familiars to steal. Although why a witch or warlock would steal from a thrift store is beyond me.” Vitale said as he made his way down the sidewalk back to his bakery. 

“So, when are you two gonna be walking down the aisle?” Griffon asked. Vitale let out a sharp exhale through his nose. 

“Not anytime soon. I highly doubt Cassandra feels anything romantic to me nor will I pursue her as such.” Vitale said stiffly. “I merely purchased her the earrings because I presumed she would like them.”

“And totally not because they’re the stone of  _ looove _ .” Vitale scowled at the salacious inflection of the word. 

“No. Stones can have multiple meanings after all. Just like flowers.” He rebuked the demonic bird as his bakery came into view. He turned into the alleyway and walked up the metal stairs to the door on the second floor, the door to his apartment. He pulled out his keys and unlocked the door, stepping inside. Locking the door behind him, he walked over to the bedroom, where his little altar was. He set the dagger down upon the wood table of the altar, making sure it was in its place. The rose quartz shone, even in the dim light of the curtained window. 

Even if his feelings towards Cassandra weren’t romantic, or even close to such, there was a sort of...joy in his heart for spending a couple hours with her. He knew it was unlikely that the relationship would ever go romantic, that years of coldness could not so easily be mended...but he would be content with having a strong friendship with her. 


	5. Bilberry

Sundays. The days he had all to himself. He was quite fond of Sundays for that reason. 

The rain poured outside, another spring storm, but at least he wasn’t outside caught in it. The TV droned on, the channel set on some home-improvement show, he wasn’t particularly paying attention. His lunch, a smaller version of a baked fish pie he found in a baking magazine, sat on his lap as Vitale quietly ate up the food. As he expected, it tasted quite delicious, a far cry from his usual sweet baked goods. Sitting on the coffee table was a steaming hot cup of tea. Nestled in a plush chair near the TV was Griffon, who was paying attention in his nest of blankets and old shirts. Shadow was splayed on the rest of the couch, letting out slumberous noises as the rain pattered on outside. 

He glanced up to the TV, watching as the host of the show and the homeowner they were working with planted bilberry for the front porch. The host was giving advice on how to care for the plant. Griffon shifted in his chair.

“Heh, the lady smeared some on her shirt and it stained!” He chuckled. Vitale let out a hum as he took another bite of the savory pie.

“I suppose that’s a lesson to heed regarding bilberries.” Vitale said, leaning over to take a sip of tea. 

“Hey, do you think we’ll get a nice house one day?”

“Absolutely not. I know my uncle will make himself quite at home, despite my objections.” Vitale shut down that line of thought quickly. Even despite the threat of Dante sticking around far longer than he should, what would he even do with a house? It would be so much empty space, unused and wasted. The thought made him frown. He much preferred apartments, they had all the space he needed. 

But there was a part of him, a part that he was quickly finding irritating, that liked the idea of a nice little house in the suburbs of Red Grave, with Cassandra and perhaps a little girl with a big brilliant red bow in her jet black hair and chocolate-brown eyes and a sweet voice that he can’t quite say no too. 

He shook the thought out of his head. He certainly was of no age to be a father, Vergil instilled in him well to not make the mistakes he made in his youth. He wasn’t even certain that fate would lead him down that path. 

“Hey V.” Griffon’s voice roused him from his thoughts. “You got that faraway look in your eye.” 

“...it is nothing.” Vitale said with an air of finality. “Nothing at all.”

“CAW! CAW CAW!” Shadow jumped off the couch from the sudden caw. “SPECIAL DELIVERY! SPECIAL DELIVERY! CAW CAW!” Vitale scowled, setting the dish down as he looked out the glass doors leading to the balcony. On the table was a large owl, a witch’s familiar with a hibiscus necklace around her neck (if the tone of voice was anything to go by). He recognized the familiar as Sharena, the familiar of the Matron of the Riverspeakers Coven. He stood up and went to the door, opening it.

“Yes, Sharena?” 

“It’s a special delivery!” She chirped, throwing the letter into his hand. “Man, I got a lotta mail to deliver. The covens haven’t been this spooked in years!” 

“Spooked?” Vitale asked, opening the letter. 

“Yeah, spooked! Witches and warlocks have been disappearing!” That made Vitale’s blood freeze. “Well, I gotta go. Gotta deliver more mail-”

“HEY WAIT A MINUTE OWLS DON’T CAW!” Griffon screeched but it was too late, Sharena took flight and soared to Cassandra’s shop to deliver her message. “Fucking hell, what an airhead. She’s lucky she’s got a nice personality.” 

“Now now, that’s quite rude.” Vitale scolded as he stepped inside, opening the surprisingly dry envelope (perhaps enchanted) to take out the letter within. 

_To the witches and warlocks of Red Grave City,_

_It has come to our attention that a rash of missing person cases from the city police have been your fellow witches and warlocks. We would like to soothe those who are worried, as we already have an investigation on hand with the supernatural hunters Vergil and Dante Sparda._

_We urge all witches and warlocks to go out with a friend and be home before dark as well. We also have, attached to this letter, the stone obsidian to protect your homes from scrying by malicious forces. Be wary of those who you do not recognize and report all suspicious behavior either to us via letter or to Devil May Cry._

_Together, we will find out who is causing these disappearances and stop any further disappearances._

_United,_

_Jeannette Longstaff, Grand Matron of the Riverspeaker Coven_

_Spirit Ó Riain, Grand Matron of the Umbraweave Coven_

_Bhaltair Austin, Grand Seer of the Felldream Coven_

Within the envelope was a small obsidian stone, perhaps for a witch or warlock to place on their altar to protect them. Vitale glanced back to the rainy city beyond the balcony door before returning his gaze to the letter. It was true that there had been some missing people but he did not realize they were witches and warlocks until this moment. Knowing him, he missed their faces during the Wake. He quietly cursed as Griffon jumped onto his shoulders, looking over the letter quickly. 

“Missing witches and warlocks, huh? Must be that bad if the big haunchos wrote the letter.” 

“It must be so…” He murmured, his hand moving up to idly play with the obsidian moon around his neck. “Cassandra was right.”

“The ladies are always right, I find.” He sighed. Vitale snorted and shrugged Griffon off his shoulder. “W-WOAH! Jeez, don’t just toss me off!” He huffed as Vitale sped towards the landline phone. “Fucking hell!” Before he could touch it, it rang out shrilly, making both parties jump. Vitale winced as sharp talons shredded his shirt, Griffon missing his shoulder from the shock. Deep red gashes ripped into his side. “SORRY!” 

He promptly picked up the phone before slamming it shut, hanging up whoever was on the other side. His wound needed tending to, as soon as possible. He could feel Nightmare seep out of his skin, closing the wound. While his twin, his father, and his uncle had supernaturally fast healing, his was nowhere near as fast as theirs. The wound needed to be kept clean while his healing took effect, a comparatively longer process compared to the rest of his family. 

He glanced up, seeing a familiar tearing in reality: The Yamato. His father stepped through the portal that formed from the katana’s razor-sharp edge. As he stepped in, steel-grey eyes focused on his ripped side. Vitale could feel Shadow and Griffon return to his skin when Vergil entered the apartment, the portal snapping shut behind his coat. 

“Vitale.”

“Hello Father. I presume you’ve come to see if I am well?” Vitale asked, holding onto his bleeding side with a hand towel he grabbed to press to his skin. He would have to wash it later, right now he had to stop the bleeding. Nightmare could slow it down but it wasn’t enough. He needed aid. 

“Of course.” He noticed the letter that lay on the table. “What happened? Were you attacked-”

“No, Griffon was startled by the phone and clawed me. I wasn’t attacked by a demon.” He explained, ignoring the raised eyebrow from his father. He knew what he meant. Vergil promptly walked over to the first-aid kit, set out plainly for these moments. He had been here enough times when Vitale needed help, having Yamato by his side made it effortless to check in on his more fragile son.

Vitale could dislike being known as the weaker son compared to Nero all he wanted. It was merely how it was. 

Vitale followed his father to the couch, pulling off his ruined shirt to apply more pressure to the gashes. It wasn’t the first time he got blood on the couch and he was certain it wouldn’t be the last. Laying down on Vergil’s lap, he heard the snap of medical gloves being pulled on. He could feel Nightmare slowly pull away, revealing the gashes for Vergil to stitch up. His father took the cloth off the wound and began to work on stitching up the gashes. 

“So, I hear you’re working with the covens to get to the bottom of the disappearances.” Vitale began, resisting the urge to wince at the sharp pain of his father methodically stitching his wounds shut. 

“We were approached personally. I would have turned them away had they not offered a sizable sum to Dante.” Vergil explained. Vitale let out a hum. “So we took the job. Dante has little patience for investigational work so that fell onto me.” 

“Is Nero helping? Or did he take a trip to Fortuna?” Vitale asked, wincing from the stitching. He hated this, the tenderness in his skin from the stitches. 

“No, but he is keeping in contact with Miss Elesion with letters.” Vergil replied. “I see them in the mailbox before Nero sprints off with them.” Vitale chuckled, imaging his red-faced twin dashing down the stairs for the mail, sifting through for the letter from Kyrie, and running right back up to his room to read it without going through the teasing of his uncle. 

“What do you think of her?” Vitale asked.

“As far as I can tell, she’s a lovely young woman. Beyond that…” Vergil trailed off as he finished stitching up Vitale’s wounds. Vitale shifted to let his father off the couch to take the towel and rags away, probably to the trash. They could be replaced. He closed his eyes, hearing the sound of gloves being thrown away and running water. “Do you need me to stay any longer?” 

“No, I’ll be fine.” He responded. He was used to these bumps and scrapes, gashes from when Griffon fell off unexpectedly. Slowly, he sat up, ignoring the tender pain from the stitched-up gashes. “Thank you for visiting, Father.” 

“You’re welcome Vitale. Please be more careful with your familiars.” Something he had heard before many times but it was his father’s way of saying he cared for him. He nodded.

“I will, provided the phone doesn’t startle Griffon again.” Vitale replied casually. Vergil faintly smiled before stepping back, cutting open a portal back to Devil May Cry. He stepped through and the portal snapped shut behind him. Vitale let out a heavy sigh, ignoring the pain in his side from the stitched up gashes. 

_‘...Sorry V.’_ Griffon said sheepishly in his head. Vitale carefully stood up, throwing away the now cold fish pie. Keeping the stitches in mind, he was about to return to the couch for a well-deserved nap when the phone rang again. He winced at the shrill sound and picked it up. 

“Hello?” He tried not to sound irritated at whoever was calling. 

“Vitale?” A sense of relief surged through him at the sound of Cassandra’s voice. His...friend was alright. “Did you get the letter too?”

“I did. You were right.” Vitale said. Cassandra snorted on the other end.

“Told you.” She teased. “Don’t apologize, by the way.” Vitale smiled a little at that.

“If Griffon was here, he would be teasing me.” He said. Cassandra let out a confused noise.

“What happened?”

“He got startled and scratched me, so he’s currently inactive for that.” He explained dryly. There was a soft pause before a gasp.

“That bird has some wicked talons, are you sure it’s just a scratch!?” 

“...yes.” He lied. He didn’t need her panicking over him. “It’s alright now. My father helped me take care of it.” He heard a sigh of relief on the other end. 

“You know, every time I meet you, I end up being more and more jealous of your family.” She admitted. “You’re so damn lucky to have a support system like that.” Vitale was silent at the admission, blinking. He glanced down to the stitches before nodding.

“Yes...yes I am.” He mumbled. “Cassandra...I’ve been thinking, since I got that letter...do you think that the Whitewing Coven is responsible for the disappearances? Your gut feeling turned out correct, which makes me wonder if the Whitewing Coven has more nefarious deals under its wings.” 

“Heh, wings.” Cassandra chuckled. “Anyways, you have a point. But we don’t have any evidence of the coven doing any wrongdoing aside from bad vibes.”

“And it’s far too dangerous to join them, if we really want to get to the bottom of this.” Vitale added, hoping that it would kill any idea Cassandra was entertaining about joining the coven to get information from them. “But I’ll tell my concerns to my father. My father and uncle can investigate the coven for us.” 

“Alright. If you think they can do it, then I’ll put my faith in them. The fact that enough people have disappeared that were warlocks and witches, enough for the most powerful covens of the city to warn everyone, it’s concerning, you know?” He could see Cassandra cock her head as she spoke in his mind’s eye. 

“It is very concerning. But...as a...friend” He said carefully, uncertainly so, he wasn't sure if she regarded him the same he regarded her. “I would hate it if you joined the coven to get information. I know you can handle yourself but I would worry if you threw yourself in danger.” There was a silence on the other end, he hoped it was just Cassandra thinking over his response, before she sighed.

“I understand. It’s so sweet that you care about me.” Vitale felt warmth seep into his cheeks. “Anyways, I’ll talk to you later. I’ve got a lot to think about and I’m sure you do too. Bye.”

“Farewell.” Vitale hung up and placed the phone back into the receiver. He walked to the couch, reaching over to turn off the TV, leaving him in quiet with the rain falling outside. 

_‘It’s still pouring.’_ Griffon commented. Vitale merely hummed in acknowledgement. _‘You gonna go to the coven in her st-’_

_‘Absolutely not. I do not want my father and uncle to worry about me and investigate the disappearances at the same time. They have enough on their plate.’_ He immediately retorted, silencing that train of thought. _‘And I imagine she’ll feel insulted if I went to the coven behind her back when I just told her not too.’_

_‘Ok ok, jeez loverboy. Don’t be so snappy.’_

_‘Considering you shredded my side, I will be snappy.’_

  
_‘Hey! I apologized!’_ Griffon huffed. Vitale merely chuckled, resting his head on a soft black pillow on his couch. He closed his eyes, drifting off into a nap to the sound of the rain falling on his balcony.


	6. Howlite

Fridays were always stressful, with all the mothers in Red Grave City hounding him for cakes for every celebration under the sun. Quinceañeras, graduations, the dreaded birthdays (he hated dealing with rude customers being so critical about every detail of his work), it was much. But, thankfully, not only had the gashes healed perfectly so he wasn’t in pain every time he walked around his own business, the last rays of the sun were peering into the windows of his bakery. It was almost closing time and the last customer was milling out the door. 

As he leaned against the display case, mentally counting the cakes he would have to replace on the display, his phone rang. He quickly slid his hand into his pocket, glancing to his phone. Cassandra had given him her personal number, he hoped it was a sign that their friendship was quite strong. He quickly swiped left and held the device to his ear.

“Cassandra?”

"Hey, Vitale, I was wondering if you'd like to go on a little hike with me early Sunday morning?" Cassandra asked. Vitale blinked, looking to the calendar on the dark brown wood-grain wall. Sunday was blank of anything of particular importance that he had to keep in mind. He returned his attention to his phone.

"There's nothing on my calendar. How early are we talking?"

"4:30am. It'll take us thirty minutes to get to the path and then an hour to get up. But it's an easy hike up and it's got a really good view of Red Grave City and I have a way to light the way so we won't be walking in the dark before the sun’s up." Cassandra said breathlessly. He could tell she was excited for this hike. Even though he wasn't that fond of physical activity like hiking (or Nero's newest hobby, hardcore parkour), it was obvious that Cassandra was passionate about this pasttime. 

It was only right that he joined her for this activity, at least this time to see if he was fond of hiking.

"I am available that morning. The way to my apartment is on the left side of the building, up a pair of wrought-iron stairs." He said. He heard a 'yes!' on the other side.

"Thank you so much! My hiking partner, Taylor, she couldn't make it this Sunday so I thought I'd ask you. You were actually the first person I thought of." Was that...embarrassment in her voice? He couldn’t tell. He smiled, feeling quite honored that she went to her, first thing, without hesitation. 

“I’m honored.” 

“Anyways, I’ll make sure to bring breakfast for us! You wouldn’t happen to be allergic to anything, right? Be honest!” 

“Not that I am aware of.” Vitale hummed in thought. “Although Griffon has a habit of stealing food.” 

“Then I’ll bring plenty of treats for him so he can’t steal your breakfast.” There was the sound of something scribbled down on the other end. “OK! I’ll leave you to do your work. See you Sunday!” 

“I will see you Sunday morning.” He nodded before hanging up. 

_‘OOOOH! He’s got a date!’_ Griffon squawked. Vitale let out a sigh.

_‘Not every interaction we have is romantic, Griffon.’_ He mentally replied, his tone deadpan. Griffon was quite insistent that they were going to be a thing and, at this point, he ran out of energy and patience to go any farther than dryly telling him to stop. _‘The soap operas are rotting your brain.’_

_‘Ugh, you totally have the hots for her and just can’t admit it!’_

_‘...the soap operas really have rotted your brain.’_ Vitale thought as he went over to the door, locking it and flipping the sign from open to closed. _‘I think I need to curb that habit of yours.’_

_‘NO! NOT THE SOAPS!’_ Vitale grimaced at the shrill scream in his head. 

_‘I definitely need to curb that habit of yours.’_

* * *

Vitale was busy munching on toast in Cassandra’s car, the woman driving him to a hiking path outside the city of Red Grave. He was dressed in a black t-shirt, pants, and some appropriate boots (she suggested boots for the hike). He glanced out the window, to the dark forest passing them by. 

“Vitale, I can’t thank you enough for agreeing to the hike. I promise, it’s not going to make you miserable.” Cassandra said, for the upteenth time during the drive. She was dressed similarly, with a white t-shirt and matching pants and boots. He noticed, around her neck, was a necklace with a copper leaf and a howlite bead between the leaf and the hoop that connected it to a leather cord. 

“You’ve sung high praises about this particular trail.” He said, finishing up his toast and taking a drink of water from his water bottle. “You know well about expectations.”

“Ah yes, be careful of the hype lest you get let down from it being too high.” Cassandra nodded as they turned into a dirt parking lot. She rolled into a parking spot and turned off the car. Stepping out, she opened the trunk. Vitale stepped out with her, walking around to meet her. She strapped a backpack to her back, looking at him curiously. “Need a refill of water? Once we get on the trail, we’re not turning back until the sun’s up.”

“A refill wouldn’t hurt.” Vitale hummed, taking one of the disposable water bottles from the pack in her trunk. 

“Good idea.” Cassandra agreed, watching as he refilled his water bottle. “You can toss the empty bottle back here, I’ll clean up when we get back to the city.” Once the bottle was filled, Vitale placed the emptied disposable bottle on the pack. She smiled. “Fuck, that’s so cute.” She said. Vitale stepped back to allow her to close the trunk. She held her hand out, a butterfly of golden light appeared in her hand. It formed a butterfly and began to leisurely flutter away to the trail.

“I...I see.” Vitale said, almost dumbly. Cassandra laughed.

“Well, let’s hit the trail!” With that, Cassandra led the way with Vitale following her. As they walked along the dirt trail, the path lazily going up the hill, Vitale surprisingly didn’t feel afraid of the darkness around them. No, he had Cassandra and her light, leading him upward. He let out a sigh, listening to the sounds of early morning birdsong, the breeze in the trees, and the distant sounds of a babbling brook. It was peaceful, relaxing even despite his body’s objection to exercise. 

The path continued on. As they walked, Vitale’s thoughts began to wander as well. Griffon was quite intent on getting him and Cassandra together, much to his mild irritation, but Griffon had a point in all of his attempts and intentions. Cassandra had been nothing short of kind to him, even when he had been cold to her. Why even bother, he wondered, before shoving those thoughts out of his mind. It was starting to veer into places that he knew his father would be disappointed in his son for being in. 

_‘Oooh boy, here come those dour thoughts again.’_ Griffon complained. 

_‘I will not be someone who believes I am entitled to a woman's affections.’_ Vitale replied harshly. _‘My father would be disappointed in me.’_

_‘Well, you got a point there, but there’s a difference between being a simp and being a genuine friend. You ain’t no simp, I can assure you that!’_ Griffon pointed out. ‘There’s also the fact that she’s been the one reaching out to you, not the other way around. _You’re FINE, for flock’s sake.’_

_‘Thank you for the vote of confidence, Griffon.’_ Vitale smiled a little. He could see Griffon proudly fluff up his feathers in his mind’s eye. 

And then Cassandra began to sing. 

_Through the woods,_

_towards the crest of the peak,_

_towards the highest point we can see_

_To see the world beyond us_

_and marvel in the mother's works_

_Oh how we adore thee, our mother_

_her gifts we love_

_and to her we tend_

_Us, the children of earth._

_Us, the children of earth._

His eyes widened, almost enraptured by her song. He was thankful he had enough mind to keep walking, because he was certain that he would’ve just stood there and stopped, listening to her. 

_‘Hoooly shit, she’s got pipes…’_ Griffon mumbled in a daze. _‘Why isn’t she some hot-shot singer!?’_

_‘Because she didn’t want to be. But she could have and gained fame and infamy in the process.’_ Vitale replied.

As they continued to walk, Vitale noticed the land around them was becoming brighter. What was once darkness was now, from the rising sun, starting to reveal the thick trees around them. He could see the grass surrounding the path, tiny blooms peering through the forest around them. 

“We’re almost there Vitale!” Cassandra turned back, reaching her hand out. He stared at her hand before reaching out to take it. She smiled and helped him up the last stretch of the path, to what he presumed was the end of the trail. As he walked over the crest of the trail, he was met with a small clearing with a flat stone, obviously used as a seat and table for anyone who came up here. He felt Griffon manifest on his shoulder, shaking his body to wake up properly.

“Oh woow...look at this V…” He murmured. Vitale looked to his left and gasped at the view before him. He walked to the edge of the overlook and stared out over the trees of Red Grave City, to the city that sprawled below them. The covens, his family, his worries as a business owner, the disappearing witches and warlocks, it all just seemed so distant and faraway. As the dawn blanketed the city in pink light, Vitale closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. 

"ACK! Hurk, urk, fuckk!" Griffon squawked, falling off his shoulder (although thankfully, he didn’t claw up his shoulder this time). Vitale looked at him, the sounds of his choking rather disruptive to the peaceful scene splayed out before them. "I ate a butterfly! It tastes rancid!"

"Then you'll learn to not eat butterflies then?" Cassandra asked. Griffon hopped off the ground and flew away, probably to find a stream to clean out the foul taste. Vitale glanced to the butterfly wing that was on the ground, white with brown on the wingtip, the inner wing, and two dots. If he remembered his insects correctly (from a book he remembered reading when he was young and sick), it was the wing of the cabbage butterfly. 

"Don't mind Griffon. I'm sure it wasn't that bad but he has a tendency to overreact." Vitale said, returning his gaze to Cassandra. 

"It's fine." Cassandra waved her hand. "I think it's funny." She sat down on the stone and opened up her backpack. Pulling out a blanket, she laid it down on the rock. “Come on, it’s breakfast time!” She called, pulling out packaged breakfast sandwiches for them. Vitale walked over to the stone and sat down across from her. “Saay, does kitchen witchery allow you to cook foods with magic? I mean, they’re fine cold and all but a nice warm breakfast in front of a beautiful sunrise? I mean, how picturesque can it get?” 

“I have not tried cooking with magic before...but I will make an attempt.” He took one of the packages and unwrapped it, taking the breakfast sandwich in his hand. He closed his eyes, focusing his magic to heat up the sandwich so it was warm. After a few minutes, he opened his eyes. He took a bite, finding the sandwich delightfully warm.

“Well?”

“...it was a success.” He said. Cassandra smiled. 

“That’s great! So...if it’s not too much trouble-”

“Unpackage your sandwich and I’ll see what I can do.” Cassandra nodded and quickly unpackaged her breakfast sandwich. She held it out for him. He hovered a hand over the sandwich and focused, feeling warm magic seep out of his hand and onto the sandwich. Pulling back his hand after a few moments, he watched as she took a bite. 

“...it’s nice and fluffy. And smells like pastry bread.” Vitale blushed, earning a giggle from her. “I’m kidding, I promise.” With that, she began to eat. Vitale quickly began to eat as well, his gaze moving away from Cassandra to the world beyond. A trio of songbirds flew across the sky, followed by a far larger bird he recognized as Griffon. He chuckled, earning a confused noise from Cassandra.

“Griffon is attempting to befriend the local songbirds. It never works. It does not stop him from trying.” Vitale explained. 

“I mean, he looks like a giant vulture. I don’t think he’d win over the hearts of the songbirds-”

“Heard y’all were talking shit about me!” Griffon squawked as he soared over to them. He landed on the rock, giving Vitale and Cassandra a harsh glare. Cassandra set her sandwich down and pulled out a plastic box of bacon strips out of her bag. Griffon visibly perked up. “Bacon?” 

“Yes, bacon.” Cassandra said, opening the box. “All for you.”

“BACON!” He poofed up and began to eat the strips, making very obvious ‘omnomnom!’ noises as he did so. Vitale smiled as he watched Griffon indulge himself in the offered bacon. As much as Griffon could rag on him for his relationship with Cassandra (or at least try to get the two of them together romantically), he could never feel ill will towards his obnoxious avian familiar. Content, he didn’t notice Shadow slipping out of his markings and prowling. It was only when he heard Griffon yell that he noticed at last. He glanced up, seeing Griffon fly up into the air. Shadow dove their head into the box of bacon, took the entire batch of bacon into their mouth, and bounding off. 

“Wha…?” 

“SHADOW YOU FUCKER GIMME BACK MY BACON!” Griffon screamed in wrath, shooting off into the brush after the demonic panther. Cassandra looked to Vitale, equally surprised, before laughing. Vitale chuckled with her.

“D-Does Shadow always steal food from Griffon?” She asked through tears. “Shit, I’m crying, that was so funny…”

“Not always, only when Griffon isn’t paying attention.” Vitale finished his sandwich. “Thank you, by the way, for bringing me here. I hope the way down is much easier than the way up.”

“It always is, because you have gravity helping you!” She said as she began to clean up. “You should go retrieve your familiars, I’ll clean up.”

“I should not impose on your kindness-”

“It’s fine. I invited you here so that makes you my guest.” She pointed out. Vitale was about to say something when Shadow bounced out of the forest and right into Vitale, the poet letting out a loud ‘oomf!’ as his body hit the ground. Griffon soared out from the trees.

“Hey! Kitty! That was MY bacon you ate you big dumb ball of fur!” He snapped. Shadow looked up to Griffon, let out a ‘merow!’ and disappeared back into Vitale’s skin. Griffon let out an ‘ugh!’ and dived into Vitale, rejoining the other familiar within him. Vitale let out a sigh before sitting up, brushing dust off his shirt. 

“Hey, I’m just...curious and all...but your bakery’s little mascot, that golem with the purple eye. Is that a familiar as well or…?” Cassandra asked awkwardly. Vitale let out a hum.

“That would be Nightmare. He is...but he is exceptionally powerful. I do not let him out except for special circumstances-”

“Such as being a laser pointer for Shadow?” Cassandra asked with an amused grin on her lips. Vitale blinked before shaking his head, laughing gently.

“Well, he has a smaller form he likes to come out in. It is far less taxing on me to let him out in a smaller size.” He explained. 

“But it seems that small things should not be underestimated, correct?” She asked. 

“Of course not.” Vitale hummed. Nightmare’s true power...that was something he kept from everyone except his father. Not even the Grand Covens knew the scope of Nightmare’s prowess, something he planned to keep as is. Nightmare’s power was something he would only invoke in an emergency, in truly dire circumstances that his familiars could not handle on their own. 

“Such as…?” Cassandra leaned forward, obviously curious. Vitale shook his head. 

“If the situation calls for it, then you will see.” He said as he took a swig of water. Cassandra frowned at that.

“Come oooon, you tease.” She grumbled as she finished packing up her backpack. She looked to her watch. “Hey, how about we go splurge at the Moondoes at the edge of the Red Grave? For one thing, I will not touch the port-a-potties at the base of the trail they are _filthy_.” 

“I suppose there’s nothing wrong with indulgence every now and then.” Vitale agreed. “And I would rather wilt than touch those excuses for relief.” Cassandra snorted as she hoisted the backpack on her back.

“Well, let’s head back down!” She said cheerfully before leading the way back down the trail, Vitale following close behind.


	7. Honeysuckle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! This chapter contains attempted rape and assault! If you are triggered by this content, please skip this chapter!

Vitale hummed as he watered the honeysuckle flowers on his balcony. In his arm was some of the very flowers, in full bloom and ready to be placed in a nice vase. The sun of late spring was warm, hinting at the summer heat that would soon fall upon Red Grave City. Summers were always miserably hot in the city, he knew well enough from the days that the cooling unit broke in Devil May Cry and all of them were stuck without cool air. Vitale set the watering can down next to the door before he slipped back inside, making sure to close the balcony door behind him. 

He glanced at the clock on the wall: 1:50pm. In ten minutes, Catria Whitewing would come to his apartment for tea and cake planning. Apparently, her friend had a son named Mauro Prince. The young man was going to be fourteen very soon and she had been assigned the duty of bringing cake to the party. As for the boy’s mother, Azzurra (he had to double check that her name was spelled properly when he wrote it down. It just didn’t...look _right_ ), apparently she recommended his bakery to her, hence why she was coming this afternoon. 

He ran his hand through his hair, walking to the dining table. On the table was warm tea, his notepad, and a delicate yellow vase. He placed the freshly picked honeysuckle flowers inside the vase, smiling as he adjusted them to look just right for the meeting he was to have today. He had to leave a good impression. Dante didn’t have to worry about that, something Vitale had to admit he was only slightly jealous of. 

The knock at the door didn’t make him jump at all. Of course not. He strode to the door and opened it, seeing Catria standing in front of the door. He noticed that she was in the same black dress as when he last saw her. Then again, it did look like something one would wear in a corporate office, so he filed that thought away. 

“Miss Whitewing.” He bowed to her. 

“Mr. Farina! It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She said, perking up as he stepped aside to allow her inside. She looked to the table, smiling at the decorations he had set upon it. “I’m glad you were available today.” 

“It is nothing.” He said, walking over to the table. He pulled out a chair, to which Catria sat in. He sat down next to her, opening his notebook. “So, tell me more about this young man, Mr. Prince.”

“Oh, he’s a huge baseball fan. The Red Grave Demons, he just goes off about them. I don’t know a thing about baseball.” She shrugged. Vitale nodded as he wrote it down. He was slightly familiar with the local baseball team, although he wasn’t too certain they were called The Red Grave Demons. He would have to double check. He added a giant question mark around the team name. 

“Colors? Flavors?” He inquired. Catria let out a hum.

“He’s really fond of red velvet cake.” Vitale internally grimaced at red velvet. He never liked making red velvet cakes, it made his kitchen look like a disaster. As he wrote down some details, he faintly heard the sound of Catria pouring the tea. He glanced up, watching as Catria placed the teapot back in its place. She took a sip of tea. “Oh? It’s tasty.”

“Peach tea with clover honey.” Vitale said, closing his book. He took his cup of tea and began to drink. “It’s my favorite.” 

“Oh, you take your tea sweet? I thought so, you look so kind.” Catria hummed. Vitale raised an eyebrow before setting down his teacup.

“Thank you?” He said, trying not to sound wary of her compliment.

“You’re welcome. I can see why Argosax recommended you.” Wait, Argosax? Vitale shook his head. 

“My apologies?”

“Azzurre. Did you forget her name already?” Catria asked. 

“No, I-I merely thought I misheard.” He explained. What was this sick feeling overtaking him? “It seems that the summer heat is getting to me.” He slowly tried to get up from the chair. Why did his legs feel so numb? He tried to walk to the kitchen to get some water but collapsed. He faintly heard a giggle and looked back. He let out a choked gasp, terrified by what he saw: a half-human half demon body, white with dark brown splotches of an insect he couldn’t remember through the nausea. Atop its head was a golden crown. 

“ **_Beautiful beautiful child of Sparda…_ ** ” She crooned, watching as he tried to crawl away from her, pulling himself towards the living room, where it was more open and perhaps he had a chance to escape. His stomach seemed to revolt, although if it was from the tainted tea or her form, he couldn’t tell. His vision was starting to warp, he couldn’t tell if it was a demoness standing before him or his mind fooling him into believing Catria was a demoness. “ **_Such a beautiful fool._ **” Something pinned him to the ground. 

“No...s-stop…” He choked out. “Father…! Cass-”

“ **_Silence!_ ** ” A sharp pain across his face made him cry out. “ **_When I am done with you...you will do nothing but worship me._ ** ” Vitale could feel a force press down at his neck. “ **_You will be such a beautiful consort...but first, I must break your mind._ **” He could feel panic boil in his stomach, through the nausea.

_‘Griffon! Shadow! Help me! I need you!’_

_‘I gotcha V!’_

Griffon knew only one thing as he formed in front of the witch who poisoned Vitale: He had to protect him. His wings flared with electricity, much to the surprise of Catria. She stumbled back, off Vitale and towards the front door.

“FUCK OFF, BITCH!” He roared, electricity slamming into her. Catria cried out in pain. Shadow pounced out from Vitale’s skin, growling loudly. Catria stumbled out of the apartment’s door, too mobile for a normal human if Griffon had to say so himself, but he had more worrying matters at hand. He looked to Vitale, still looking like shit. He could even feel the effects of the poisoned tea and mentally shook it off. He glanced at the table, seeing a left-behind bag and tiny jar of honey, still open. 

“Fucking hell...she must’ve brought some poisoned honey and used it to take out V. Kitty, you keep that bitch outta here!” He snapped, taking to the air out the door. “I’m getting help!” Shadow let out a low ‘meow!’ before bounding out of the door after Catria. Griffon followed Shadow before soaring up into the air. Devil May Cry was too far away, not while Vitale needed help immediately, and he couldn’t call the emergency line because of his talons...so who to get to help... 

Cassandra!

With that plan in his head, he immediately dived. He did a sharp turn into Sagefire Teashop and Apothecary, ignoring the surprised screams from her potential customers as he soared over to her. 

“HEY! HEY LIGHTSPARK!” He screamed, having all eyes on him. Which was a good thing, if he thought so himself. Cassandra ran out from the back to the counter, green eyes wide with surprise. 

“Griffon!? What’s got you all fluff-”

“It’s V, the bitch poisoned him, I got no hands and no idea what to do and-”

“Say no more.” Cassandra quickly went to the back. “KHALID! You’re manning the shop while I’m gone!” He heard her bark. A few minutes later, she came out with a green bottle in her hand. She jumped over the counter and ran out the door, Griffon quickly following her outside. She dashed across the sidewalk to the stairs, running up them to the door. Griffon took the moment to look around, seeing if Shadow mauled the bitch or not. He spotted Shadow padding up the stairs, one of her shoes in their mouth.

Well, it was something. Griffon would’ve preferred her head. Griffon jumped through the doorway, watching as Cassandra began to administer the antidote. He felt relief as he watched color return to his master’s form. After a few tense moments, Vitale’s green eyes fluttered open. 

“C-Cassandra…?” He breathed out, obviously confused.

“Shh...it’s ok, I’m here.” She gently soothed, helping him up. She carried him to his bedroom and tucked him in. “Just get some rest, ok?” Vitale nodded weakly. It didn’t take long for his eyes to close, falling into slumber. Griffon let out a sigh of relief.

“Phew...man, I’m glad you’re next door. Devil May Cry’s too far away for this.”

“Too far away?” Cassandra asked, closing the door behind her. Griffon nodded, flying up to get on the dining table. He scowled at the tiny jar of honey that remained opened. “What do you mean?”

“Well, when you’re the Sons of Sparda, sitting all nice and cute on the main boulevard ain’t gonna be your shtick. They’re in the fucking boonies.” Griffon explained. He pointed his wing to the phone, with a note next to it. Cassandra walked over to the note, squinting.

“Password...Sundae?” She murmured, looking to Griffon in confusion. 

“Gotta keep the telemarketers out of the way.” He said casually.

“Well, I’m ignoring it. It’s an emergency.” She picked up the phone, promptly dialing the number. Griffon leaned forward to listen in with his demonic hearing.

“Devil May Cry.” Came the chipper voice of Dante.

“Hello? Is this Vitale’s father?” Cassandra asked. Griffon snickered. 

“Well, close enough. Why?” 

“Someone’s poisoned him. I’ve taken care of the poison but Vitale needs someone to watch over him while he recovers-”

“Gotcha.” Dante said. Griffon heard the sound of the phone meeting cloth, Dante probably muffling the phone to not blast her ears out. “Hey Verg! Your kid needs you!”

“Say no more.” The phone suddenly hung up. Cassandra blinked in surprise and set the phone back in the receiver. 

“How will his father get here-” Before Cassandra could finish her question, reality seemed to peel away in the living room. Cassandra let out a surprised gasp as, from the dark void beyond, Vergil stepped out. Reality snapped closed behind him, the Son of Sparda staring down Cassandra with an intense gaze. “...what the fuck.” 

“Where is my son?” Vergil growled. Griffon could see his sword hand twitch and flew up into the air, between Vergil and Cassandra. 

  
“Hey hey hey, don’t go stabbing the messenger! V’s in the bedroom.” Vergil stared at him, steel grey meeting his yellow. 

“Who poisoned him.” 

“Catria Whitewing. Kitty got her shoe, but before you go hankering for revenge, your kid needs you!” Griffon flew over and began to flap his wings, guiding the angry Vergil to the bedroom to tend to his slumbering son. He heard the door close and let out a sigh of relief. 

“...wow. He’s...uh...scary. When he’s pissed.” Cassandra murmured, slowly relaxing. “Lemme guess, Vergil is more protective of his son because he was a sickly child.”

“Right on the money.” Griffon said, landing on the back of a dining chair. He fluffed up his feathers. “Nero can handle his own ass just fine, but V needs me and the big bad kitty to protect him.” Cassandra walked over to the dining table, frowning at the tiny jar of honey. “Please don’t lick it.” 

“I’m not.” She said, closing the jar. “But I do want to take it as proof to the Grand Covens that the Whitewing Coven is actively threatening solo practitioners, if the actions of the coven’s leader is anything to go by.” She looked down. “Shit, she left her bag here.”

“Don’t give it back to her in person! It’s too dangerous!” Griffon squawked. 

“And she poisoned Vitale. I’m not giving her shit except a knuckle sandwich.” She cracked her knuckles. Griffon chuckled at that. “What?”

“It’s just, V thinks you don’t like him like that. I think he’s wrong.”

“...what do you mean, like that?” Griffon blinked.

“Please tell me you’re not as dumb as he is.” 

“What are you talking about?” Cassandra asked. Griffon let out a groan.

“Someone help me, the lovebirds don’t even realize they’re in love!” Cassandra blushed a deep red.

“No! No, it’s not like that at all!” She exclaimed. “Vitale’s my friend and anyone who hurts my friends just gets on my shit list!” Griffon groaned and looked to Shadow, who was busy rubbing her hand. Cassandra sat down and began to scratch behind Shadow’s ears. “And he’s got a very good kitty friend.” 

“Oi vey…” Griffon sighed. “You and V, you’re gonna be the end of me someday.” 

“Hey, a boy and a girl can be just friends. Not every relationship ends in romance, you soap-loving bird.” 

“I am not obsessed with soap!” He huffed. Cassandra laughed at that. 

“Ok ok.” She stood up. “I need to go back to my tea shop. You know where to find me.” She stepped out of the apartment, closing the door behind her. Shadow let out an upset meow and looked to Griffon sadly. 

“Oh don’t give me that look.” He jumped off the table and landed on Shadow’s back. “We’ll get those lovers together yet. You’ll see. You wanna know the next part of my awesome plan to get those two together?” Shadow tilted their head. “Catria’s heart! That bitch fucking poisoned V! I’m not gonna forgive her!”

“Meow!” 

“Yeah, you saw it too, right? That Catria’s hiding shit from everyone and I don’t like it. Makes me suspect those names she gave to V were all lies. But of what…” He huffed thoughtfully. Shadow let out a meow before they began to trot to Vitale’s bedroom. When the two entered, Vergil was sitting down in a chair he took from the young man’s desk, taking vigil over his slumbering son. Griffon jumped up to stand on the bed frame, leaning over to look at Vergil. Shadow jumped onto the bed, curling up next to Vitale. Vitale shifted and reached out, pulling Shadow into his arms.

“So uh...any movement?” 

“No. Whatever ailed him has left. All that remains is to help my son recover.” 

“Well, Cassandra swooped in with a cure and patched him right up. I think she wants you to stick around in case he vomits up the poison.” Griffon explained. “She’s good to him.”

“I overheard her...insistence that her and Vitale are merely friends. Regardless of what happened, I am indebted to her for taking care of my son.” Vergil looked to the door before his gaze returned to Shadow. Shadow was backing up out of Vitale’s arms, visibly not wanting to get vomited on. Griffon chuckled at the sight.

“Well, if you do call Dante back, do tell him that Catria Whitewing is someone to keep an eye on. She’s a fucking shady bitch, poisoning V like that, talkin’ bout how he was gonna be her consort, ugh disgusting.” Griffon gagged at that. Vergil raised an eyebrow before nodding, his gaze moving to the window.

He had much to think about.


	8. Azurite

Cassandra strode up to the doors of the Red Grave Public Library, her bag at her side and a mission in her heart: Find out who the fuck Catria Whitewing was. 

Well, she already knew that, sort of. Catria was the woman who poisoned her friend and fellow witch Vitale Farina just a week ago, the woman who led the Whitewing Coven (and she just realized how arrogant Catria was for naming the coven after her own surname), and the target of her ire. That was why, on a perfectly fine Sunday where normally she could’ve spent relaxing in her apartment, reading a nice book or something like that, she was pushing open the doors of one of Red Grave’s many public libraries, the oldest in the city, and strolling inside with a direction in mind: Red Grave’s newspaper archives. 

The skylight above the many bookshelves revealed the dark grey storm clouds that covered the city, threatening to pour rain upon the glass roof of the building. As Cassandra walked across the wood floor, her footsteps echoing in the building, she strode through the bookshelves to seek the archives. She had gone through the digital archives, but they weren’t enough nor did they give her the answers she sought. They were too limited for her liking. 

So here she was, reaching the newspaper archives she so sought. Pulling out a few of the books of the scanned pages, she took them to a nearby table and began to pour over them. Her green eyes skimmed through the newspapers, looking for any signs of the names Catria, Whitewing, or them together. As the editions drifted pass, with paper after paper still lacking the names she sought, she wondered if Catria was a false name or something like that. Why else would she fail to find her name in the digital archives? Was she not looking hard enough? Would the citizen records in City Hall give her the results she needed? Or would they only be a helpful cross-reference? Frustration bubbled in her as she replaced what she had read with new compilations. 

_‘Fucking hell Catria...who are you?’_ She thought in frustration as the hours passed. Her stomach loudly grumbled, causing her to jump. _‘SHIT! Has the time passed by that quickly!?’_ She thought, looking at the time on her phone.

12:01pm. Just about lunch time. She let out a sigh as she began to clean up. Before she closed one of the books, something caught her eye.

Catria Whitewing, under the list of those who died recently, in a twenty-year old newspaper. 

She wasn’t sure what made her pause, the roll of thunder above her or the words that lay in glossy ink before her. She just stared, silent and uncertain as to what to do now that she had her name. She certainly didn’t feel hungry anymore, that was for certain. But she did know one thing about the information that now lay before her: Either Catria was a dead woman walking or the woman she thought she knew as Catria was someone...or something else entirely. She remembered when she checked in on Vitale and Vergil, Vitale mentioned that the woman seemed to appear demonic, calling him ‘her consort’. 

But she couldn’t confirm that the latter theory was correct, not until she could cross-reference the name in the public records at City Hall. 

She quickly set the book back on the table, reaching into her bag to grab her journal. Pulling out a pen, decorated with a small azurite bead, she promptly wrote down the newspaper’s year, the fact that Catria was in a list of the dead, and a large question mark. Closing the journal, she tossed it and the pen into her bag and returned the books to their shelves. Once all put away, she strode as fast as she could back to the front door. 

The thunder rolled ominously as she got on her motorcycle, quickly putting on her helmet. She quickly kicked the kickstand up and drove off to City Hall as fast as she could, barring traffic of course. She had to go, as fast as she could, to get to the bottom of this. As the imposing building came closer, she knew she had some sort of answer in her grasp.

But in a world of demons and half-demons, of witches seeking power with the unknown, who knew what the real answer was to anything not _normal_ and human? 

Quickly parking at a local coffee shop next to City Hall, she got off her motorcycle. Pulling off her helmet, she grabbed her bag and made her way up the grand stairs to the front doors. She cared little for the impeccably kept white stone and marble columns, not while she sought one _particular_ piece of information: the death certificate of one Catria Whitewing. 

Approaching the secretary, she leaned against the desk and smiled at the sweet young lady behind the dark wood.

“O-Oh, uh, hello? How can I help you today?”

“I’m looking for the public records of one Catria Whitewing. Doing some...genealogical research and wondering if she might be a cousin of mine or something.” She said casually. A lie, but not that she would ever meet this young woman again. The young woman nodded and quickly stood up, leading the way. Cassandra followed her past doors with gleaming golden fixtures and through empty hallways where only thunder boomed. The young woman opened the door and led her into what looked to be a filing room. She went to one of the cabinets and looked through the folders. Cassandra pulled out her journal and pen, knowing it was probably unlikely that she would be allowed to keep them. 

“Anything specific about Miss Whitewing?” 

“Just the death certificate, if you don’t mind. I read from one of the papers that she died.” Cassandra explained. The secretary nodded and pulled out the death certificate and showed it to her. Cassandra leaned forward to quickly read what it read.

_Catria Whitewing (27) - Cause of Death: Homicide_

_‘Homicide...this is a dead woman walking then.’_ Cassandra thought, staring at the death certificate before her before writing down the important details. _‘And she doesn’t look much older than 27 either. So this woman...who is she exactly?’_

“Ma’m?” Cassandra looked up at the secretary. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. You’ve been a great help.” Cassandra smiled at her. “I just remembered I have an appointment with my favorite baker in ten minutes. I can find my own way back.” With that, she sped-walked out of the building. 

The fact of the matter was that Catria should be six feet under. And yet she walked amongst them. Something wasn’t adding up. 

As Cassandra walked out of the building, throwing the journal into her bag, she saw a white butterfly flutter in front of her. She blinked in surprise as it flitted around her before flying off. While it was strange to have butterflies in this part of the city, she paid it no mind as she slid her helmet on. She had to return to Vergil and Vitale, to tell them what she found out. 

Riding through the streets, she glanced up to the rain that began to fall. She silently swore before turning into an alleyway between his bakery and her teashop. Riding under an awning, she turned off the motorcycle and kicked down the kickstand. She quickly went into her apartment on the second floor of the building to put her helmet on the hook next to her door. Once put away, she rushed downstairs and along the sidewalk before turning to the stairs that led up to Vitale’s apartment. 

Ever since the attack, Vergil had not left the apartment except to go retrieve food from her teashop, food that Cassandra gave freely. She had to admit, Vergil’s attentiveness to his son fueled her own jealousy for Vitale’s family. Once again, she was reminded how much Vitale was protected and loved by them. She had seen Nero come in as well, to bring a hearty meal to his ailing twin from someone named Kyrie (perhaps Nero’s girlfriend? She hadn’t had the opportunity to ask yet). 

As she walked up the stairs, she noticed a strange motorcycle in the alleyway. Vitale didn’t look like the kind of person to keep a motorcycle around. She put it out of her mind and knocked on the door. Much to her surprise, it opened immediately. She blinked, staring at the man in the striking red coat in the doorway. Of course she knew him as Dante but...still, what was he doing here? 

“Hi?” She asked awkwardly. “Where’s Vergil?” 

“He’s with Vitale. What brings you here?” He asked with a grin. Cassandra pulled out her book. 

“I’ve been busy looking up Catria Whitewing. That bitch is gonna get her ass handed to her when we’re done-”

“We?” Dante asked, amused. Cassandra raised an eyebrow.

“You doubt I can handle my own?” She asked before pushing her way inside to get out of the rain. “There’s more important matters at hand anyway. Especially the fact that this ‘Catria’ is a dead woman walking.” 

“What do you mean by that?” Vergil asked, stepping out of the kitchen with his hands in a towel. His coat was gone, splayed on the couch and currently being laid on by Shadow. Cassandra opened her book, hearing Dante close the door behind her. 

“I went to the oldest public library in the city, in case Catria appeared in the news.” Cassandra explained, sensing Dante hovering over her shoulder to look at her little journal. “The only thing I found was a blurb in the newspapers, of the recently deceased-”

“In a newspaper that was twenty years old?” Vergil asked. Cassandra frowned at him. “I found the exact same newspaper when I began my investigation into Miss Whitewing.” 

“...public record stated she died at age twenty-seven, homicide.” Cassandra grumbled. “Look, I’m trying to help here-”

“I understand that.” Vergil said sternly, eyes narrowed at her. “But you have helped. For one thing, you came to the aid of my son after that...woman poisoned him.” She noticed the way he referred to Catria, with enough venom that could kill a man where he stood. “I am grateful for that.” 

“Thank you.” Cassandra snapped her book shut. “I just...wish I could help more. Vitale’s my friend and nobody messes with them without going through me.”

“Aww, that’s cute.” Dante hummed. “Told ya they’d be a good match.” 

“What!?” Cassandra blushed a deep red. “Not you too, you buffoon! Me and Vitale are just friends. Nothing more. I’ve already dealt with it from Griffon.” She snapped her journal shut. “And there’s more important things to consider, like Catria, who clearly is behind the disappearances if what she did to Vitale is any indication.” She added as she threw the book in her bag. “Catria’s bag was empty of anything identifying, at least when it came to paper.” She remembered when she and Vergil went through it (probably not the most proper thing to do to a lady’s bag, but Cassandra was certain that Catria was no lady. Hell, with what she found out about her and her actions to Vitale, she was a walking corpse right now). 

“Most likely an attempt to appear normal. I have my suspicions about the honey that she used to poison my son.” 

“I think Griffon mentioned it was tainted-”

“A very specific poison from the Underworld.” Vergil interrupted. Cassandra gave him a look of her own. “No witch should be able to retrieve it so easily unless…” He paused, as if a thought came to his mind, of a name that he dared not utter aloud. Whatever it was, as Cassandra glanced to Dante, it was obviously something powerful. Dante’s expression made it plain to see that this entity was no ordinary familiar that a witch could bind to herself. 

“Unless...what? They were bound to someone?” Cassandra asked. 

“Someone who should be dead.” The two said in almost-creepy unison. Cassandra stared at Dante, to Vergil, and then back to Dante.

“Uhh...o...kay…” She pulled away from Dante. “If it’s something big and dangerous, you better let me know now because I’m going to be upset if it comes up and bites us in the ass.” The twins looked at each other before back to Cassandra, who crossed her arms. “Come on, if it’s that concerning, I want to know now.” 

“...do you know of Mundus?” Vergil asked, his voice slow and careful. Cassandra tilted her head.

“...only a very old legend from my home. It states that the founders of the city fought against Mundus and Sparda personally, along with their armies, only to fend them off.” Cassandra said, glancing to the side as she watched Vitale stand in the hallway, listening in on the conversation. The young man certainly looked far better than when she last saw him. She also found his choice of pajamas, an old band t-shirt and flannel pants, quite cute. “Why?”

“Well, me and Verg, we kicked his ass years later.” Dante said with a grin. “He shouldn’t return.”

“But the fact that this specific poison only comes from demons in Mundus’ armies. That is what concerns me.” Vergil added. “It doesn’t help that Catria seems to have disappeared from Red Grave entirely.” 

“Disappeared?” Vitale spoke up, his clearly displeased tone causing Vergil to stiffen. “After what she did to me? She simply disappeared into thin air?” The two older men glanced at each other, unsure what to say, when a voice spoke up from the plush chair next to the TV.

“That’d be my fault. I just told Kitty to chase off the bitch.” Griffon said, looking over to Shadow. Shadow rolled off Vergil’s coat and walked over to Vitale, letting out a guilty meow. Vitale let out a sigh as he knelt down to scratch behind the panther’s ears. Vergil looked to Dante, to his son, and then to Cassandra. 

“Then we will have to wait for Catria to make her move.” Vergil sighed. He returned his gaze to Vitale. “Are you feeling better?” He asked, his tone much softer now. 

“I am.” Vitale nodded. “Thank you Father, Uncle.” Dante grinned wide. 

“Well, in that case, time for me and your old man to hit the road.” He said, ignoring Vergil’s comment about them being twins. He leaned over, grabbing Vergil's coat and tossing it to his twin. “You two have fun! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” He waved to Cassandra and Vitale.

“That’s a broad statement.” Vitale commented, watching as Dante dragged Vergil out of the apartment and closed the door behind them. Cassandra turned to Vitale, listening to the sound of a motorcycle being started up before driving off into the rainstorm outside. A silence fell between Vitale and Cassandra, with only the sound of rain between them. The two just stared at each other, unsure of what to do or say. Finally, Cassandra let out a sigh and closed the gap between them. 

“Hey...how are you feeling? Really?” She asked softly. Vitale looked up at her before standing up.

“With your tonics, I recovered quickly. You’re a natural.” He said, leaning against the wall. Cassandra smiled at that. 

“Well, thank you. I really like your cakes, by the way.” Vitale raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think you know Khalid but he brought a cake from your bakery to celebrate his birthday.” Vitale remembered the young man, Khalid had requested he bake a deer-themed cake for his birthday. He must have shared it with the workers at her teashop. He smiled at her compliment. 

“Thank you.” He glanced down, almost shyly, before he carefully took her hand. She glanced down to their entwined hands, watching him but making no move to pull her hands away. It was almost as if the world was frozen around them. Vitale leaned forward, Cassandra doing the same to close the gap between their lips…

Only to be met with pitch black fur. 

The two jolted apart, causing Shadow to land on the floor with a surprised chuff. Cassandra stared at the demonic panther before laughing. Vitale chuckled, a warm smile creeping onto his lips. 

And outside, the rain continued on.


	9. Furze

The warmth of summer was now besieging Red Grave City. It honestly wasn’t that bad. While foot traffic evaporated, he could survive through his online business of ordering cakes and picking them up or having them delivered with the employees he had. But that wasn’t what Vitale had his mind on.

No, it was about Catria and the Whitewing Coven. It had been a month since Catria poisoned Vitale and fled into the city. She had made no moves since then, nor had the covens called for any warnings about the Whitewing Coven or it’s leader. It was tense, the quiet that fell in regards to her and her plans. 

So here he was, with nothing lined up and nobody in his store. Shadow was slumbering in the summer sun, clearly content with the hot weather. Nero had stopped by earlier, to check in on his twin in case he fainted from the heat. While Vitale certainly was better at keeping conscious under hot weather (compared to his younger years), he always adored his twin checking in on him. Right now, said twin was off grabbing some tea next door for them.

He lazily gazed at the vase atop his display case, displaying vibrant furze flowers. The blooms were quite lovely, if he had to say so himself. He stood up, turning to head into his kitchen. The flowers inspired him to make a small cake for Cassandra with the furze flowers as the theme, the blooms as vibrant as her golden hair under the sun. He smiled fondly at the memory of her, basking in the light of dawn at the hill they had hiked on so long ago, the rising sun’s rays caught in her hair-

Something made him pause in the doorway. Shadow let out a low growl. A thief perhaps? No, not a thief. Not this aura. Something was nearby, something...demonic. He glanced to the side, seeing a demon standing in the doorway. It’s armor was black, covering it’s limbs. The wings of the demon (wings? Already he could tell that this demon would be a pain to dispose of) were white with dark brown dots and swaths. Covering its eyes were the same wings, but smaller. Why, he couldn’t tell. Demons were demons, after all. In its hand was a wicked looking sword, a sword he would need to avoid at all costs. 

He heard the crashing of glass and instinctively ducked, rolling away as the demon surged forward. Shadow pounced, turning into a spinning blade as it tore through the demon. It roared out, a startlingly human roar, before he poked his head out from around the edge of the counter. He reached over, grabbing the cane-sword that his father and uncle gifted him, when he first opened the bakery in case demons attacked.

Now was the time to use it. 

He dashed across the tiles as Shadow bounced back, letting out a roar at the demon. The demon turned and let out a battle cry, slashing at Vitale. He parried the slashes, wincing at the sheer demonic strength behind them. He had to get the demon out of his bakery, to the open streets behind him. 

“To me!” He barked to Shadow. Shadow bounced to him, the ink melting to his legs. With an inhuman speed and Shadow’s aid, he wisped backward to the sweltering heat outside. The demon charged after him, only for Vitale to dodge out of its charge. Now out on the bare streets in heat, Vitale could feel the summer sun rays baking his skin. “GRIFFON!” He yelled. Shooting out from the second story window, he saw Griffon’s dark blue feathers streak across the sky before diving into the back of the demon. 

“Comin' at ya baby!” He roared. Vitale smirked as Shadow leapt forth from him. The demon held up it’s sword to parry Shadow’s leap. He heard the sound of glass crunching underfoot and glanced to his side, watching as-

Oh no. No no no no  _ no _ ! Cassandra’s teashop was under siege from the same demon, perhaps a new type from the Underworld? He had no idea how to get the attention of his father or uncle, not now. Unless…?

“Special delivery!” He looked up, watching as the demon was flung back to the hot asphalt. Of course. Nero. His twin dashed out of the shop, Cassandra running behind him with Astra glimmering in the summer sun. Red Queen was ablaze with fire, a sight he was familiar with-

Shadow let out a defeated roar, causing Vitale to return his attention to the demon he was fighting with. It stared at the red orb that replaced the demonic panther, tilting its head in confusion. Vitale knew he had moments before the demon would turn to him and glanced his head back, just a little.

“Cassandra! Nero!” He called. The demon turned to him and charged. He reached up, grabbing Griffon’s talons and letting the familiar carry him up into the air. The demon let out a screech before Cassandra dashed forward, Astra slicing into its armor. Griffon let go of Vitale next to Shadow’s orb, Vitale landing easily on the street. He rested a hand on the surface of the glimmering red orb, watching Griffon dive-bomb the demon. His beak sliced into the demon’s shoulder, sending too-red blood onto the streets. He looked away, to the orb that just formed into Shadow. Shadow shook their body and let out a roar to challenge the demons before them. 

Vitale had to admit, as he muttered a command to his feline familiar, he was jealous at how easily Cassandra and Nero battled side-by-side. If he wasn’t so frail and helpless, hiding behind Shadow and Griffon, perhaps he would be able to hold his own with his twin and his friend. He watched, analyzed the battle movements of the two humanoid-like demons, and squinted. The way they fought was clumsy, as if they weren’t trained for fighting humans. Even the demonic shock troops had an innate sense for combat, if anything his family told him held any water. 

Nero slashed hard into the demon, sending it’s lifeless body across the street. It let out a final scream before falling still. That scream was too human for his liking. Cassandra noticed and disabled the remaining demon, pinning it to the ground. Vitale slowly stood, walking carefully to the demon pinned to the ground. It hissed and growled under Cassandra’s arms, it’s head wildly moving around. Vitale knelt down, closing his eyes. A slick sensation wrapped around his throat, another application of Nightmare’s power.

“ **_To whom are you a minion of?_ ** ” Vitale growled, the rough language of demons grating against his throat. 

“ **_General Pieris._ ** ” The demon hissed. Vitale raised an eyebrow. “ **_She will have you, sons of Sparda!_ ** ” 

“ **_No she will not._ ** ” Vitale sneered. “ **_And you will not slay my friend to get to your goal._ ** ” He slammed the end of his sword-cane into the demon’s head, ending it’s life. Vitale stood up, wincing as the slick sensation faded. Cassandra let the dead demon go, turning it over and ripping off the wings that covered the eyes of the demon. She let out a choked cry of surprise, stumbling back.

The eyes were too human, once wide with rage and hatred, but they were now glassy lifeless orbs. It was as if the demon had once been a mortal before being changed by some fell power. 

It was a sight that made Vitale’s stomach churn, sending him back. He covered his mouth as he remembered the too-red blood that he saw come from the demon’s wounds. Were demons now kidnapping humans to turn them into warriors for their infernal armies? The thought sickened him. He looked to Nero, now quite pale, and cleared his throat.

“Go back to Father and Uncle. Tell them what has transpired here. Now.” He breathed, trying to not hurl up his breakfast. Nero nodded slowly.

“Y-Yeah...are you gonna be OK, V?” He whispered.

“I will be fine.” Vitale said clearly. “Father and Uncle need to know what happened. They’ll know who this Pieris is.” Probably. But he didn’t say that to Nero. 

“Alright. Just be safe, ok?” Nero rubbed his shoulder and nodded before dashing off. Vitale looked to Cassandra, who was stumbling to her store to recover. Vitale let out a sigh and walked back to his shop, sensing Griffon and Shadow returning to his skin. He entered his bakery, ignoring the sounds of glass crunching underfoot, and let out a sigh. The glass doors would need to be replaced. He looked up, seeing Stefan standing in the kitchen doorway with wide eyes.

“What in the...how...are you-”

“We will need to account for replacing the door. Insurance should cover that.” Vitale began. He glanced up, hearing the distant wail of sirens. The sounds of fighting and the red blood, from now faded demon corpses, surely caught the attention of the local authorities. Demons were a known thing in Red Grave City, enough for local insurers to offer ‘demon insurance’ and actually mean what they offered. He glanced back as the local authority began to tape off the scene, seeing it as a murder (the blood would seem to imply that). He looked back to Stefan. “Also, try and see if you can procure walls of plywood to act as temporary doors. A friend of mine needs...tending to.” 

“I’ll do what I can, Mr. Farina.” Stefan nodded and dipped back into his office. Vitale walked over to his display, taking the smallest cake, a recreation of that daffodil cake he had made just a few months earlier (it felt so far away now). Placing the cake in a travel box, he carefully closed it before stepping out of his bakery, keeping as far away from the scene of battle before peering into the bakery. It seemed to be just as unscathed as his bakery, aside from the glass door. He noticed Khalid behind the counter, perhaps he was the only person in right now. Khalid’s olive-green eyes met his, followed by a stunning grin.

“She’s upstairs!” He called. Vitale nodded before walking up the iron-wrought stairs to the second floor. He knocked on the door.

“Come in!” Cassandra’s voice was shaky, as if she was still recovering from the events of what happened. Vitale opened the door and stepped inside.

The apartment was cozy, like he had stepped inside a cabin out in the forest. Dark wood was everywhere, along with flannel. He glanced to Cassandra, curled up on the plush black couch, Astra thrown carelessly on the dark coffee table. He set the cake on the dining table and carefully walked over to her, taking a seat next to her. He reached over to rest a hand on her shoulder. She looked at him, deep green eyes watery (a sight he hoped he would not see again. It didn’t suit her).

“Cassandra?” 

“Vitale...I…” She swallowed. “Did we...did we kill people?” She whispered. “I-It’s one thing to just kill mindless demons but...those eyes! They...they’re human! I don’t, I can’t...I’m not a bad person…” 

“Cassandra.” Vitale gently rubbed her shoulder. “Those were demons through and through, even if they were once human. What we did was a mercy to them.” He slowly moved his hand to rub her back. “It’s alright to cry, if you need to. I will not hold it to you.” Her eyes met his before she threw herself to him, earning a soft ‘oof!’ from the lithe poet. She began to sob into his shoulder, clinging onto him. Vitale frowned before slowly rubbing circles into her back, letting her cry it out. 

He understood why Dante didn’t like harming humans, he made it a rule as long as he could remember. The weight of that crime against life could break someone. He closed his eyes, resting his head against hers. She just had to let it out, it would make her feel better when it was over. 

_ ‘Awww, I knew you two were the perfect pair.’ _ Griffon cooed in his head. Vitale resisted the urge to huff. 

_ ‘Not. Now.’ _ He mentally growled.  _ ‘Cassandra does not need YOU trying to pair us together.’ _

_ ‘I’m not wrong.’ _ Griffon offered. 

_ ‘If you will not be helpful, then silence yourself.’ _ Vitale growled. He would not tolerate Griffon’s sleaziness, not while Cassandra was crying her heart out to him. 

_ ‘...sooo...is it just me or was those demons just wrong? Aside from those human eyes. That was fucked up.’ _ Griffon asked. 

_ ‘They were hardly combatants. They fought like they were stumbling fawns.’ _ Vitale pointed out.  _ ‘It is...suspicious.’ _ He thought about it before realizing Cassandra’s tears had dried. She pulled back, wiping her eyes.

“Ugh, I...haven’t cried like that in a long long time.” She muttered. “Thank you, Vitale, for being a good shoulder.”

“Anything for a friend.” He said. He looked at the dining table, to the travel box the cake was in. “I brought cake. I thought you would like it.” 

“Thank you. Would it trouble you to stay for the night? I would...I would feel better, if you would stay.” She slid the blanket off her body and looked to the coffee table, wincing at the rapier just laying there. With a gesture of her hand, the blade disappeared, earning a raised eyebrow from him.

“A spirit weapon?” He asked. 

“Something like that.” Cassandra shrugged. 

“Not much different than Devil Arms…” Vitale mused. “But I doubt you would appreciate your weapon being associated with the demonic.” 

“Eh, I don’t mind that much.” Cassandra shrugged, looking to the clock. “Hey, are you hungry by any chance?” She asked, standing up from the couch.

“Starving.” 

“I’ll make lunch. It’s the least I can do.” She said, walking to the kitchen. She paused as she passed by the dining table. “And...did you bring a cake?”

“I did. It’s for you.” He said simply. “I thought that you would be distressed by the sudden attack so-”

“So you brought cake to cheer me up?” Cassandra asked. Vitale nodded. “Thank you. I...well now I gotta make something nice and tasty so that we earn our cake! How does sliders sound?” 

“That would be nice.” He nodded. He felt Griffon becoming antsy under his skin and held out his arm. Griffon shot out of his arm towards the open window, taking to the sky. Cassandra watched him go before looking to Vitale.

“Got the case of the zoomies?” She asked. 

“That would be more of Shadow’s domain but no, Griffon was becoming antsy so I let him go fly across the sky.” He smiled. “It keeps my mind free of his inane babbling.” 

“That’s technically the zoomies.” Cassandra pointed out, a playful lilt in her voice. Vitale pulled out a chair to sit down, watching as Cassandra pulled out a pan and frozen hamburgers. Her happier disposition was a marked improvement and he would take it above tears and green eyes wide with fear and doubt. It was a look that didn’t belong on her face, a look he found himself silently vowing to make sure remained off her face. She was too beautiful to be sad about anything in the world. 

If Griffon was here, he’d tease him, saying that he was completely and utterly in love. 

A savory smell wafted along the kitchen, Cassandra once again singing. He couldn’t tell the language but it sounded old...and nice. It seemed quite simple, given the repeated phrases he heard. He tilted his head a little, watching as she seemed to bounce in place on her heels, the notes of her voice swirling in the air with the smoke of cooking meat. 

“Oh! Vitale, what do you want on your slider? Just ketchup, cheese and lettuce?” Her voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Just that, please.” He said. “But please don’t add too much ketchup. Sliders always seem to make messes when they are in my hands.” 

“Gotcha.” Cassandra winked and began to prepare the buns for them. Placing the freshly cooked meat on the prepared buns, she turned off the oven and placed a plate in front of Vitale. “Bone apple tea.” 

“That sounds like something my uncle would say.” Vitale chuckled.

“Well, he might’ve rubbed off on me.” Cassandra admitted shyly. “But not just that. My workers throw it around to tease each other. Can’t help a good joke.” Vitale chuckled at that before a blissful quiet fell between them, the two indulging in handmade lunch. It was nice, the quiet. Family meals back in his childhood were rambunctious and wild, with his uncle and father brawling over either what to put on their toppings or even if they’re going for pizza at all. It was often Lady (and Trish, when she settled into their strange family) who actually made food for them (he could remember when Lady got involved with the arguments. That settled them down quickly).

A sudden rush of wings caught his attention. He looked up, seeing Griffon with a little necklace in his mouth. It was a small furze flower, encased in a glass orb. Vitale glared at him.

“Hey, don’t look at me! Think of it as an early birthday gift!” Griffon squawked. “I was the one who told you to get it!”

“And remind me who slipped the news that her birthday was coming up?” Vitale asked. Griffon just tossed the necklace to him. He caught it quickly. Cassandra looked to Vitale, to Griffon, and then back to Vitale. 

“I ain’t snitching. Besides, I think giving her the necklace now is a good thing. That Pieris sounds like bad news. If she gets nabbed-”

“Then we can find her with a simple tracking spell.” He looked at her. “If you so consent.” 

“Uh, yes.” Cassandra said, moving her chair closer to Vitale. “You got some big guns behind you if you get taken. Me? Not so much.” Her saying that so candidly stuck...something in his heart. Fear, perhaps? He stood up, walking over to Griffon. Griffon stared at him.

“Don’t even thin- WAH!” He yelped as a single dark blue iridescent feather was pulled from his body.

“You know I need it for the tracking spell.” Vitale said calmly. Griffon rolled his eyes. Vitale wrapped the feather around the orb and closed his eyes. A tracking spell was simple enough, a rudimentary but effective spell. And, if the wearer was consenting, the spell’s creator could pass through the protective wards of obsidian (he had noticed that, no matter what, Cassandra had kept the obsidian ring on her hand). When his eyes opened, it appeared as if the feather was inside the orb, surrounding the flower in a dark blue iridescent ring. He handed the necklace to Cassandra, who took it warily.

“Do I just need to...put it on?”

“Yes. And with it, we will be able to find you if Pieris steals you away.” The thought of Cassandra being bent and transformed into one of Pieris soldiers...it sickened him. He couldn’t let that happen, if he could help it. His father made sure that Nero and him would never be stolen by demons. Now he would make sure his friend (no, she was more than just a friend. She was his best friend, one of the very few he had in life) would not become a mindless demon drone. 

_ He would not allow it.  _


	10. Carnelian

_ Vitale was in a forest, a dark black forest with no moon to guide his path. He could see bone-white hair in his vision, followed by a deep sense of dread. Much to his horror, he realized he had no familiars. Where were they? Where was his family? Fear clawed his heart as he stumbled to his feet, grabbing his sword-cane. Despite the cool metal of the sword-cane in his hand, he did not feel any reassurance from it.  _

_ “Vitale!” He heard a cry, the cry of his twin, calling for him. He ran through the forest, panting heavily as he followed where the cry came from. Then the cry came to his left, of his father, calling for him. He skidded across the wet grass, wincing as his hands scraped against hard tree bark. He had to find his twin, his father, the rest of his family. He couldn’t be dead weight, not while they were fighting for their lives, not while Cassandra was still in danger! _

_ He skidded to a halt, slipping on the grass and ending up on his back. In front of him was a terrifyingly familiar demoness. Before, it was only an echo of it’s form, muddied by hallucinations caused by poisoned honey. Now, Vitale could only stare up in horror at the demoness, almost as big as his father when he was in Devil Trigger. It’s massive white body floated in front of him, spectral tendrils erupting from it’s back while it was held aloft by white and black speckled wings. Bright carnelian hued eyes, accented by a golden crown atop it’s brow, stared down at him.  _

_ “ _ **_Son of Sparda...no, my consort!_ ** _ ” The demoness cooed loudly. “ _ **_We shall create a new army for the Prince of Darkness. But this body of yours…_ ** _ ” One of the tendrils grabbed his ankle, earning a gasp of surprise. He pulled away, to no avail. “ _ **_When I reforge your body, you will know nothing but utter loyalty to our master._ ** _ ” _

_ “No…! NO!” Vitale screamed, thrashing in the tendrils. “Let go of me! Let go-” _

“V! V!” Griffon screamed, causing his eyes to snap awake. It was just a nightmare, nothing more. Although the sweat that clinged on his body was something he could do without- “It’s the teashop! It got attacked again! And Cass is missing!” Vitale snapped up and jumped out of bed, messily getting dressed. Any grogginess from the nightmare was gone, replaced with panic. 

“Is anyone there-”

“Your dad, your loudmouthed uncle, and Nero!” Griffon panted. “Jeez, you were really having a nasty nightmare when I came in. I was just flying around when I sensed something was off so I came back and her storefront was smashed all over again!” It had been two weeks since Pieris sent demons to attack his bakery and her teashop. Another attack, so soon? Unless it was retaliatory, that could be the only explanation for the sudden attack. 

Too many ‘unlesses’ and ‘what ifs’ crowded his mind as he grabbed a dagger, the very dagger that Cassandra had suggested for him to get when they dipped into that thrift shop one rainy spring afternoon. He dashed down the stairs, grabbing his sword cane along the way. Boots slammed on the concrete of the sidewalk as he dashed to the shattered storefront. 

Much to his relief, it was still early enough in the morning that none of the teashop’s employees were there. He noticed his father and uncle, his father conversing with an older woman (perhaps the store’s financial manager, like his relationship with Stefan?). As he approached, he saw Nero step out of the store, boots crunching broken glass beneath him.

“Definitely a brawl happened there.” Nero said, glancing back to the store. “It’s practically reeking of demon shit.” 

“Anything like those that attacked earlier?” Vitale asked, making his presence known. Dante glanced over to his nephew before back to Nero. Nero closed his eyes in thought, his Devil Bringer shimmering blue. 

“Yeah, there’s some sliced wings there. But this” He gestured to the storefront, to broken glass and overturned tables. The mess was so unsightly for the demons that had attacked not a week before. “Something bigger came by and caused a mess.” 

_ ‘Pieris.’ _ Vitale thought, a shiver shooting up his spine. It had to be, after they took care of two of their grunts. He gripped his hand tighter on his sword-cane. He could see the demoness’ blazing eyes in his mind from the nightmare he had just woke from. What if…

“Hey, Hey V, we can find her, remember?” Griffon whispered as he landed on her shoulder. Of course, the necklace! He just had to focus on it, something he could do easily. He closed his eyes, the distant sounds of his conversing family members becoming faint. He softly murmured a spell, the very spell that would allow him to see where she was through the necklace. As he murmured, he could faintly hear the sounds of struggle, a voice that was familiar but he could not place where, and the sound of leaves high above him. 

_ ‘You won’t get away with this, Catria!’  _

_ ‘This face has suited me well enough, daughter of sage, but you are prey to the real prize: the Sons of Sparda-’ _

_ ‘They’re gonna kick your ass ten ways to Hell!’ _

_ ‘Ahahah! I would love to see it!’ _

Vitale snapped his eyes open and looked to the north. He knew where she was and, more importantly, he knew who she was with.

“Catria.” He whispered hoarsely, venom slipping past his lips with her name. He felt their eyes all rest on him. “I know where Cassandra is.” He said, a little louder.

“Well, spill the beans!” Vitale glanced at his uncle for a brief moment before he pointed his cane to the north. 

“Northward, in the forest. Once we enter the forest, Pieris’ demonic energy should be strong enough to lead us to her.” He explained. He glanced at Griffon. “You know where she is, Griffon.”

“Man, it’s been forever since you went hunting demons.” Griffon commented as he flew off his shoulder. “You know, he’s just as smart as you three id-”

“Griffon!” Vitale barked. The demonic bird let out a squawk.

“I’m going I’m going!” He yelled, taking off into the slowly-brightening sky. Dante walked over to Cavaliere, getting on the demonic motorcycle. Nero followed Dante’s lead, walking to his own motorcycle. He got on and twisted the handle to make it roar. 

“Nero, you will have to lead the way.” Vitale said, settling himself behind his twin. He noticed Vergil sitting behind Dante on Cavaliere. He was certain that, as much as his father wanted to use the Yamato to create a portal, the unknown would not aid them in finding Cassandra. Vitale wasn’t strong enough to use the Yamato to do it himself either, so the katana was out of the question. 

“Hold on tight V!” Nero laughed. Vitale wrapped his arms around Nero’s midsection as the young man kicked up the kickstand and drove off, Cavaliere following behind them. Vitale lowered his head into Nero’s shoulder, his mind drifting off as the dawn wind whipped his hair. 

_ ‘Solo witches gotta stick together, even if they’re not bound by a coven. We have to look out for each other, since we have no shelter of a coven to watch our backs for us.’ _ Cassandra’s words drifted into his mind. Would a coven have protected her from the demon attack? Save her from being kidnapped? He remembered that their grandmother was also a witch, if the murmurings of his father and uncle were anything to go by. Even though she died by fire caused by demons, it was still too similar. He couldn’t let Cassandra, his friend-

No. He couldn’t say that anymore. With dawning realization, he realized that he had fallen in love with her. And now, she needed him. 

_ ‘As you have saved me from poison, I will bring you from my poisoner. I will save you. I promise.’ _ He thought grimly as Red Grave’s suburbs turned into thick forests. He leaned with Nero as they turned, as the paved road turned into dirt and rough paths. He could sense the demon’s energy and looked back to Dante and Vergil. He noticed his father’s reaction, of dread before grim determination. If it was anything related to Mundus, then he could understand that look. 

“Hold on!” Nero yelled. Vitale snapped his head forward, seeing demons on the path between them and Cassandra. “It’s gonna get messy!” 

“You are so much like Dante.” Vitale grumbled. If Nero heard, he didn’t acknowledge it as the motorcycle rode over the demons, sending viscera all over the forest floor. The scent of gore and fecal matter was overwhelming, enough to make Vitale gag. As Nero’s motorcycle and Cavaliere skid all over the demons, they would end up in a clearing. Looming over them was a bouquet of pods, twitching humanoid forms trapped inside glowing gold. Standing in front of the pods was Catria, in her business casual dress. Struggling against a pair of demons was a visibly exhausted Cassandra. With horror, he saw the demons throw her in a pod. It began to close up, Cassandra weakly throwing her fists against it.

“VITALE!” She strained to scream, the sound making Vitale shudder before the pod closed. Immediately, his attention focused on Catria, who let out an inhuman laugh.

“Ah, love. Adorable, isn’t it?” She cooed, her tone far more malicious. Nero slid to a stop, turning off the motorcycle. Dante did the same with a playful ‘woah-hooh!’. Vergil and Vitale stepped off the vehicles, stepping forward. 

“What are you playing at Catria? Or should I address your patron, Pieris?” Vitale spoke out loud, directly at Catria. The witch slowly turned, flanked by a dozen of similar humanoid demons. Her smile was unsettlingly cruel. 

“Oh son of Sparda...if you had just come along as my consort, I needn’t use this  _ pest _ to lure you to me.” Catria cooed, voice warped by demonic energy. Vitale glanced to Vergil, noticing his hand was resting on Yamato’s handle. He looked back to Catria, noticing a strange glow in her eyes. He shifted his grasp on the handle of his sword-cane. “I am most grateful that you brought your...quaint little family to this event.” Catria’s skin began to crack, as if she was merely a vessel for something far larger. “With your fall, I, once a mere general to the Prince of Darkness, shall rise  **_to rule the Underworld!_ ** ” With a burst of demonic energy, the human disguise was shed to reveal a bug-like demon. They floated on their own power, white fur covering their large body. Their great butterfly wings, white with dark brown dots and stripes, once again reminded Vitale of the cabbage butterfly (he idly wondered if Pieris had been spying on him and Cassandra ever since they met them at the Wake, either with said butterflies or in the form of a butterfly). It’s left wing was visibly scorched by electricity (so Griffon did harm the demon. He would have to thank Griffon once the demon was dead). Bright red eyes, like hate-filled carnelians, glared down at them. Atop its head was a glimmering golden crown.

_ ‘Just like in my nightmare…’ _ Vitale thought before the demon let out a roar.

“ **_When I am done with you, the line of Sparda shall be the sires of an endless army!_ ** ” 

“Oh fuck off!” Nero snapped, firing his gun at the demon. They screamed out from the gunfire, the signal for the demon knights to charge forward. Shadow leapt out of his tattoos, meeting the charge of one of the demons. Griffon dive-bombed Pieris, screaming a sort of war cry. Hearing Dante cheer as he dove into battle, Vitale stepped back to stare at the crowd of demons. They seemed more ready for battle this time, as if trained for combat. Vitale took another step back before jumping up onto the demon. Jumping off the demon, he dashed across the wet grass to the pod.

“ **_Oh, a daring rescue?_ ** ” Pieris cooed, shooting over to him. “ **_How about I put a stop to that!_ ** ” 

“V!” Nero yelled. A ghostly demon hand shot forth from his Devil Bringer, grabbing one of the tendrils that fluttered freely from Pieris. He was pulled to the demon, Red Queen ablaze with fire. It dug into Pieris’ shoulder, earning a scream from the demon. Vitale whipped to the demon and his twin, fighting for dominance. Nero looked up. “Save her!” 

Vitale nodded and dashed forward to the pod. Using the sword-cane was out of the question, too long. He pulled out the dagger and began to cut open the pod, grunting as the dagger slowly cut through the pod’s thickening shell, orange goop pouring out of the widening cut. Every single inch she managed to carve out was agony, he could see Shadow and Griffon out of the corner of his eye, fending off any that encroached him. Content with that, he pulled down with one final strained noise. The pod burst open, showering him in sticky golden goop. Cassandra fell into his arms, coughing and gasping.

“Vitale...thank you…” She groaned. Her clothes were eroded, leaving only a dress with an eaten-away skirt and shorts. He set her down.

“Are you ok?” He asked, panic in his voice.

“Just exhausted. Go clean up the demons-

“NERO!” A scream took Vitale’s attention. Nero skidded across the wet grass, his Devil Bringer-

Oh god, his Devil Bringer. Vitale watched in horror as Pieris devoured the Devil Bringer. She let out a cackle, her wings flaring with demonic energy. Horror turned into anger, a boiling wrath that churned inside the poet. He stood up, cold hatred in his veins.

“Pieris!” He snapped, stepping forward. Pieris looked to him, head cocked with visible interest. “Fall to hell!” He snarled before snapping his fingers. He could feel Nightmare’s power, it’s true power, seeping out of his skin and hair, leaving only porcelain skin and bone-white locks. Landing behind him and Cassandra was a giant golem, dripping with demonic ichor and protected by strange eldritch plating. Pieris let out a noise of surprise at Nightmare’s appearance, just moments before a large violet beam shot out from the purple orb that was the golem’s eye. Pieris let out a scream, their body fading into ash from the assault. What few demons remained at their command collapsed to the ground like puppets, their strings cut from their master. 

A quiet fell in the clearing before Vergil and Dante rushed to Nero. Vitale couldn’t see how Nero was, only a soft hiccuping sob and Vergil’s pleas for Nero to stay conscious. Vitale stumbled over to his twin, feeling Nightmare return to his skin, returning his hair to ink black. He collapsed onto his knees into bloody grass, staring at where Nero’s Devil Bringer used to be. Instead, it was nothing but a bloodied stump, Nero visibly sobbing from the pain. His other hand clung onto Vergil, who looked like he was panicking. 

“Father, we need to get Nero and Cassandra to the hospital.” Vitale spoke, pushing past the nausea in his stomach. “They need proper medical attention, as soon as possible, and we can ill afford time to waste.” He dared not glance to Nero’s bloodied stump (don’t think about it, you’ll only throw up and nobody needs that right now). “Dante, you take Nero’s motorcycle and-” He looked over, seeing a bloodied crown, Pieris’ bloody crown. Shadow padded over to the crown and picked it up with their mouth, walking over to them. “Tell the covens what happened. Take the demon’s crown as proof that they will not bother us anymore.” 

“...yeah.” Dante nodded. He slapped his hand on Vergil’s back, snapping him out of his panic. “Come on Verg, we got stuff to do.” He slowly got up, groaning at the creaking in his bones. Vergil blinked before nodding, carefully lifting up Nero in his arm. With his other hand, he took the Yamato and cut clean slices into the air. As reality peeled away to form a portal, Vitale glanced back as Cassandra stumbled after him. He noticed that she was looking rather green, perhaps from the blood that was thick in the air.

“Nero...is he gonna be OK?” She whispered, staring at the young man’s unconscious form. Vitale did not have an answer for that. He only looked at the portal. Taking Cassandra’s hand, he pulled her along into the darkness after Vergil. 


	11. Althea

It was raining, another summer storm had fallen upon Red Grave City. Rain pelted the windows outside, the wrath of the weather slamming into the building. The rain, Vitale mused, was the perfect reflection of his feelings.

It had been a week since they defeated Pieris, but at the cost of Nero losing his Devil Bringer. Thankfully, Cassandra did not need a long stay in the hospital, only a few days at most, but Nero was the subject of his worry. No sooner than they had arrived at the hospital, Nero had slipped into unconsciousness from the shock of his forearm being ripped off. 

Vitale glanced away from the hospital window to Nero, still unconscious from the shock of his Devil Bringer ripped off. While his physical wounds had been tended to, his body still wasn’t quite over the sudden loss. The room was clean, the scent of fresh new flowers wafting in the room. Next to the still unconscious Nero was althea flowers, according to Miss Kyrie. She had come by to visit Nero, perhaps Vergil relayed to her the news of his state. While he liked her, her stern brother reminded him of his father. 

He closed his eyes, remembering when Cassandra arrived at Nero’s hospital room, bearing the newly named althea flowers, just a few days before…

_ “V?” Nero whispered, his hand clinging onto Vitale’s. “I’m gonna...go back to sleep…” He murmured, eyes fluttering closed. Vitale frowned. It was only for a few brief minutes, too short for his liking, but Nero was still breathing, still alive and well, his inability to stay conscious for long notwithstanding. Vitale let out a heavy sigh, lowering his head. _

_ “Nero...I’m sorry I couldn’t save your arm.” He murmured, guilt still weighing on his heart for that crucial mistake. If only he had summoned Nightmare earlier, or saved Cassandra earlier, or distracted Pieris so his twin wouldn’t end up in such pain-  _

_ “Hey, don’t beat yourself up over it.” A new voice spoke. He lifted up his head, fast enough to make him dizzy. Standing in the doorway was Cassandra, a small bouquet of flowers in her hand. She walked over to the small vase, replacing the wilted flowers with her own. Vitale lowered his head. Cassandra took the other chair and pulled it next to Vitale. “Did he wake up?” _

_ “For a few minutes. Then he slipped back into slumber.” Vitale said with a sigh.  _

_ “...you know, I never doubted you’d come and save me.” Cassandra admitted. “I fought my hardest when two of those demons came into my shop but when...Pieris, was it?” Vitale nodded. “Yeah, her, I knew I couldn’t stand my ground. But I saw Griffon in the window and I knew he’d get you.” _

_ “You had...faith in me?” Vitale asked softly, surprised at her confession. _

_ “Yeah. You’re my best friend. We look out for each other, right?”  _

_ “Yes, of course. How could I not aid you when you aided me?” Cassandra smiled at Vitale’s words. “You are...a friend I deeply cherish.” He couldn’t will himself to confess, not while his twin lay before them, still and unconscious. The moment wasn’t right. He just hoped that Cassandra got it, despite the circumstances.  _

_ Cassandra’s smile seemed to lift his spirits, the dour energy of the room seeming to fade around them. If only she knew what he felt about her... _

_ ‘Oh Cassandra, how can I tell you how I feel? Would you even feel the same for me?’ _ Vitale thought. Despite how he felt, how could he tell Cassandra? Did she feel the same? Would it be too forward of him to presume she loved him? He could handle being told no, he would never force her to be with him, but would he be hurting afterward? Yes, he would. 

His familiars were silent. Not even they would aid him in determining how to confess to Cassandra. Although, if Griffon got any wild ideas, he would certainly shoot them down. He couldn’t go for full-on fanfare, that wasn’t  _ him _ . But what to do…?

“Vitale.” Vitale jumped at the sound of his father’s voice, ripped out of his own thoughts. He looked up, watching as Vergil entered the room. In his hand was a rather sizable tome. He sat up a little. “How long have you been here? Do you not have a business to attend to?” 

“I have plenty of reserve to afford time to not be there.” Vitale explained. He looked to Nero, faintly feeling his own arm tingle. “And even then...Nero always helped me, protected me when I was assailed by schoolyard bullies ”

“Even from birth, you were inseparable…” Vergil murmured. “I was here to stay with Nero, actually. Dante and I have cycled between tending to Devil May Cry and being here with Nero. You needn’t worry. When Nero awakens, it will be either Dante or I who will be with him.” 

“...thank you, Father.” Vitale nodded, relieved at that. “There is another matter that I want to ask you about.” Vergil sat down next to Vitale, raising an eyebrow. “...the woman we rescued, Cassandra. I…I’m in love with her. I’m not sure how to confess that to her.” Vergil let out a soft ‘ah’ and nodded. 

“The golem you summoned...that is the most powerful of your familiars, correct?” Vergil asked. Vitale nodded. “What does she know about Nightmare?”

“That I only summon it in emergencies. When Pieris hurt Nero” Even saying that made him shudder. He hated that memory, of Nero’s scream, the triumph in Pieris’ voice, and the fear in his father and uncle’s voices. “I knew that they would turn for the weakest of us: Cassandra and I. So I summoned Nightmare.” 

Vergil smiled knowingly. “Then I imagine she has a feeling that you are fond of her. I’m afraid I do not have advice on how to confess nor will I direct you to Dante for advice.” Vergil sighed and looked to Nero. “That I must leave to you.” 

“...Very well. Thank you, for talking to me. I have an idea what to do though.” He said, looking back out the window. 

“Did Griffon have any...interesting ideas?” Vergil asked. “I recall that you said he has a fondness for those daytime soap operas.”

“I do not!” Griffon squawked, jumping out of Vitale’s shoulder. Vitale let out a low growl, immediately pulling him back. 

“Thankfully, no. And Griffon knows better than to manifest in hospital rooms.” He sighed. “I would never take advice from Griffon regarding the affairs of the heart.” But he did remember Griffon soothing his worries, on that hike they shared (oh that felt like a lifetime ago!). “...most of the time.” 

“Just like I don’t take Dante’s advice. Most of the time.” Vergil mused. Vitale noticed the faint smirk on his lips. “Once, your uncle and I were taking care of a demon named Phantom. It was Dante’s idea to lure the demon over a glass ceiling. The demon did not possess the intelligence to realize it was walking into a trap and, when it slammed itself down to intimidate us, it fell through the ceiling and impaled itself on a statue.” 

“I remember that story. Didn’t...Dante say he yelled at the demon to do a flip?” Nero asked softly from the bed. Vitale’s head snapped to Nero. Vergil nodded. 

“He did.” 

“Nero, are you ok? Do you need anything?” Vitale asked, stepping up from the chair and walking over to his temporarily bedbound twin.

“V, I’m fine.” Nero said, waving his hand. Vitale let out a sigh, staring down at his brother. “You don’t need to worry-”

“Don’t say that. Of course I’m going to worry about you. Especially now that…” He stared at the missing arm. Nero smiled weakly. “I can’t just leave you here.”

“V, you got a business to take care of. You can’t just stay here forever.” Nero said, taking his hand. “Hey, how about you make me a cake when I get out of here? You know what I like.” 

“Vanilla cake, topped with blueberries and strawberries. Perhaps I can make it for when you come by with Kyrie.” Nero blushed at that. 

“Kyrie came by?”    
  


“A few days ago, yes. She was quite worried about you.” There was a hint of guilt in Vitale’s voice, a guilt that he was certain Nero noticed if that wince was anything to go by. He let out a soft ‘tch’. 

“Ok then...then you’ll have to make it really big, for all of us. You know Dante’s gonna want the entire cake.” Nero pointed out. 

“I will.” Vitale nodded. “It will be quite the party, celebrating your return from the hospital.” He paused. “Don’t change the subject.” Nero snickered, earning a sigh from his twin. “Nero…”

“I get it, you’re worried about me.” Nero reached up with his good arm, giving Vitale’s forearm a firm shake. “I’ll be fine.” Vitale frowned. “I promise. I’m still here, after all.” He looked down to where his Devil Bringer once was, letting out a sigh. “Dad and I, we’re gonna figure this out.”

“That will not stop me from worrying, Nero.” Vitale pointed out. “You were always the one who protected me...now I will protect you.” Nero grinned at him, as if he casually wasn’t missing an arm. 

“Can’t wait to see how you juggle protecting me and your business.” 

“That is my responsibility.” Vitale shot back. A sudden ring from his phone made them all jump. He pulled out his phone and took a glance, seeing it was from Stefan. He sighed and walked outside the room, picking up the phone. “Yes?”

“I was wondering when you are going to return, Mr. Farina. I know you had a personal tragedy in the family…” He said, obviously trying to be as delicate as possible about the situation. Vitale scowled. As much as he hated to return to his bakery...he knew that he couldn’t entirely devote himself to protecting Nero. 

“Tomorrow.” He said at last. “I’ll open up the bakery tomorrow.” 

“Oh good, I was starting to get worried. A week-long absence will take a hit in the budget.” Vitale frowned as he listened. How could he possibly bake when he worried about Nero? He knew his cakes would suffer...unless he focused his attention to someone else: Cassandra. Perhaps if he thought about her while making his cakes, he could produce cakes he could be proud to sell? “Vitale?”

“Yes?” 

“I do apologize if I came off as insensitive. I don’t want to see The Land of Dreams Bakery flop. I really do like your cakes.” Stefan admitted apologetically. Vitale couldn’t tell if he sounded genuine or not but he would take it.

“Thank you. I shall meet you tomorrow morning.” 

“Very well. Good day.” And he hung up. Vitale slid his phone back in his pocket and stepped back into the hospital room.

“Who was it?” Nero asked, sitting up in his hospital bed. 

“My accountant, Stefan. He asked when I would return and expressed remorse for asking such a thing. I...will return to my bakery tomorrow.” Vitale sighed. Nero nodded. 

“Yeah...look, V, I promise I’ll come out of this fine.” 

“Nero, don’t put up a facade for Father and I.” 

“I’m not! I swear!” He objected. Vergil let out a chuckle, causing his twin boys to snap their heads to him. “Dad!”

“I’m keeping out of this.” Vergil said dryly. Nero let out an exasperated sigh. 

“Look, V, I swear, we’re gonna be fine.” Nero looked to his stump. “I mean, I miss it-”

“And you’re going to need physical therapy.” Vitale added. 

“Yeah yeah, that too. But you don’t need to worry about me. I promise.” Vitale crossed his arms, earning a groan from Nero. “Oh, I know that look. You don’t believe me.” 

“I know you well enough to know you’ll forge through anything, no matter what.” Nero rolled his eyes at that.

“Nerd.”

“Musclehead.” 

“Boys. Enough.” Vergil spoke up again. “I do not want a scuffle in the hospital room.” 

“I know better than to cause an altercation in a hospital room.” Vitale pointed out, ignoring Nero’s snickering. He walked away from his twin and took back his seat next to his father. His mind returned to Cassandra and how to confess his feelings for her. His mind drifted to a delicate white flower he had seen in an old gardening magazine from the hospital waiting room. He pulled out his phone and began to search through the Internet for more ideas about what he wanted to do. 

What kind of baker was he if he didn’t bring her a cake with his confession? 


	12. Opalite and Sweet Alyssum

It was a beautiful mid-afternoon, the summer sun beaming warm rays into his bakery. It wouldn’t be long before the summer warmth gave way to the chill of autumn. Vitale noticed that Shadow was rolled over onto their back, making every moment of the sunlit hours count. He smiled as he placed the cake, a white cake delicately decorated with icing-made sweet alyssums, in it’s transport box. 

This cake was going to no one but Cassandra Sagefire. Today, he was going to confess his feelings for her. 

Normally, as it was the weekend, he wouldn’t have his shop open at all. But today was an exception. He was expecting a package from Lottie, the florist from Flower Showers, and one of two gifts he was going to give to Cassandra: A small bouquet of the very flowers that decorated the surface of the cake. The other gift was in his pocket, a silver necklace with an opalite crystal. He got it the moment he saw the sunlight pass through it, revealing a beautiful flame-like amber. The sight reminded him of her, how beautiful she was and the fiery passion that burned within. 

A knock on the glass door made him perk up. Standing at the doorway was Lottie, beaming brightly in the sun. He quickly rounded the counter and rushed to the door, opening it. 

“Vitale!” She handed him the bouquet, wrapped in a white ribbon. “So, you’re going to ask her the question?”

“Yes, I am.” Vitale nodded, taking the bouquet. “I pray that she feels the same for me.” 

“I know she will. You two look like peas in a pod!” Lottie beamed at him. He felt himself become at ease with Lottie’s confidence in himself, at least a little. 

“Thank you. I am glad to know someone else has confidence in my abilities.” He said with a smile. Lottie smiled back, bright as the summer sun.

“Well, good luck!” With that, she left. Vitale gripped the bouquet in his hand before returning to the counter to pick up the cake. “Shadow, with me.” Shadow jumped up, bounding after him as he left the bakery. Vitale tied the string of the box to Shadow’s tail before locking up the bakery. Retaking the box, he made his way to the stairway that led up to Cassandra’s apartment. Shadow reached up, bapping the door with their paw insistently. After a few minutes, the door opened, revealing Cassandra in a simple sundress.

“Oh! Vitale! I wasn’t expecting you today.” She said. “And you brought a cake?”

“It is for you. Along with the flowers.” Vitale showed him the bouquet. She took it, inhaling the bouquet's delicate scent. “...may I come in?” 

“Oh!” She nodded, quickly heading inside to put the bouquet in a vase. “Yes, please, come in! I’d like to try that cake you made, I was just finishing up lunch.” She paused. “Wait, have you eaten lunch yet?”   
  


“Yes, I ate before I arrived.” Vitale nodded, stepping inside. Shadow disappeared into his skin. He set the cake on the table before going over to close the door behind him. 

“So, how’s Nero?” Cassandra asked, pulling out plates and knives to cut said cake. “Last I saw him, he was still in the hospital.”

“Nero apparently knows a weaponsmith, someone named Nico.” Vitale explained. “They are in the process of creating a prosthetic arm that can act as a weapon as well. I have seen pictures of the prototypes. It looks...complicated. And impressive. But so very complicated.” 

“Well, I’m glad that he’s getting help with that.” Cassandra hummed, returning to the dark wood table. She opened the cake box. “Oh, it’s beautiful…” She looked to the bouquet, to the cake, then back to the bouquet. “You got inspired by the flowers, didn’t you?” 

“What makes you say that?” Vitale asked, hiding his knowledge behind faux confusion. Cassandra laughed.

“I know you know what sweet alyssum represents, poet. You won’t let yourself be caught off-guard for not knowing something again.” Cassandra said before she cut a slice for V, a slice that held the most flowers. “Sweet alyssum represents worth beyond beauty.” She explained, sliding the plate to him. “You find me more than beautiful, don’t you?” 

“...yes. Brave. Kind. Selfless. Amongst many other things.” Vitale said, taking an offered fork. He did not take a bite of the very cake he prepared, his eyes entirely focused on Cassandra. He noticed the light blush on her face, obviously flustered by his own compliments. He set the fork down on the table and reached into his pocket. He noticed her cocking an eyebrow as he pulled out the necklace. “Even when I offered nothing but bitterness, you reached out to me to give me advice. You were the one who noticed how suspicious Pieris was acting, before anyone else. I have...fallen in love with you.” He gently took her hand, pressing the necklace against her warm skin. “I understand if you do not feel the same about me, but I wanted to express it before I lost my chance.”

“Vitale…” Cassandra murmured, her eyes glancing between him and the necklace in her hand. After a few minutes of quiet, she laughed gently and took the necklace, placing it around her neck. She sat down and pulled her chair close to Vitale’s. Her hand slid into his black hair. He leaned against her hand, a soft hopeful smile gracing his lips. “You were a little bit of a dick when we first met.” Vitale winced at that. He knew what he did. “But you’re really smart underneath that. I quite enjoy our talks.”

“So does this mean…?”

“I love you too, Vitale.” Her eyes flicked to his lips. “...can I kiss you?” 

“As you wish.” He murmured, eyes fluttering half-closed. He felt Cassandra’s other hand settle on his waist, pulling him close to her. Soft lips pressed against his own. Vitale let out a soft hum, relaxing on her lap as he carefully kissed her. It was sloppy, he knew it, but it was almost endearing in a way. Weren’t first kisses sloppy from lack of experience? 

She pulled back for breath, their eyes meeting before she let out a chuckle. Vitale lowered his gaze, unable to resist chuckling with her.

“You know…” Cassandra mused. “Your hair is really soft.” 

“Thank you.” Vitale breathed. “...may I kiss you again?” Before Cassandra could respond, Vitale felt Griffon shoot out from his skin. He landed on the back of the chair. 

“FINA-FUCKING-LLY!” Griffon squawked. “Man, I waited forever for you to smooch and man, does it feel good to see a plan go into fruition!” Vitale let out a frustrated groan. 

“You are ruining the moment, Griffon.” 

“Come on, let me celebrate!” The demonic bird fluffed up proudly. “This was totally my idea, by the way.” Griffon pointed out. 

“Keep deluding yourself.” Vitale rolled his eyes. Griffon let out an ‘ugh!’ before eying the cake. “And before you ask, yes, I do plan to eat my own cake.”

“Aww, come oon.” Griffon whined. Cassandra looked to the cake.

“Shit, I forgot about it.” She glanced to Vitale, a smirk on her lips. “Damn those lips of yours. I could kiss you for hours and never get tired of it.” Vitale could feel an intense blush forming on his cheeks.

“I...um…” He ignored Griffon’s laughter behind him. Vitale slowly removed himself from her lap, allowing her to stand and cut a slice of cake for herself. 

  
“ _ Now _ we can enjoy the cake you worked so hard for us.” Cassandra said, taking the plate and fork. She took a bite of the cake and let out a hum. “Hm. Angel food cake. I’m surprised you managed to get the icing on it. Aren’t the cakes fragile?”

“I managed it with magic.” Vitale said with a cryptic grin gracing his lips. Cassandra laughed.

“You’re so cute.” She said with a wide grin. Vitale couldn’t help but relax, taking the fork to take a bite of the cake slice he received from her. Before he could take a bite, Griffon bolted forward and stole the bite off his fork. 

“MINE!” Griffon flew off his chair away from Vitale. Vitale merely rolled his eyes.

“Cassandra, I do hope you’re alright with Griffon’s...antics.” Vitale said, shooting a glare at Griffon.

“I was fine before we made it official.” Cassandra said, taking another bite of cake. “And I promise to keep your uncle off your back. Something tells me he’s going to tease you to kingdom come.” Vitale nodded at that.

“He’s already getting practice with Nero. Even though he hasn’t announced it, he also has the affections of a lovely young woman. I met her when Nero was still recovering in the hospital.” Vitale explained. 

“Oh boy. I can already see it.” She sighed. “Well, whatever happens with your uncle, I’ll make sure he doesn’t go too far with the teasing.” Vitale nodded and took another bite of cake. A new relationship, a bright future for them both, and Nero on the path to recovery…the future was looking as bright as her smile. 


End file.
